


Love in the dark

by Sab_21



Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Light Angst, Modern Setting Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2020-04-08 13:09:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 37,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19107745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sab_21/pseuds/Sab_21
Summary: Bellarke love story, that takes place in the past and present simultaneously, as teens and as adults, and also from Bellamy's POV and Clarke's. Bellamy comes back to town after 6 years, and Clarke is affected by his return. Basically musings from my imagination, if Bellarke was canon and in a modern setting. Title is from Adele's song of the same name, because that song always makes me think of Bellarke and I listened to it obsessively while writing this fic ;)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there reader! Thank you so much for choosing to read my fic! It's my first Bellarke fanfic, and also the first thing I've written in years...it basically got me back into writing, which I used to love. This took me months to write, and edit and re-write, so please be kind in your comments :) Happy reading!
> 
> This chapter is in the present.

BELLAMY

Bellamy took a deep breath, his hand resting against the handle to the door that contained his past, and hopefully his future. He hadn’t been home for more than a few days in years, and while his sister, Octavia, expected him to come home, she didn’t; of course, his first stop could’ve been anywhere else, but something compelled him to come here right away. Everything else could wait. Curiosity had gotten the better of him. He’d wanted, needed, to see her, to see what she had become. Whenever he was with Octavia, she avoided the subject like the plague. 

He stepped inside slowly, still unsure if this was a good idea. As he ran his hand through his hair, he dislodged droplets of rain from the dark, curly locks. He rubbed his hands together and blew into them, trying to infuse them with a spark of warmth on this chilly evening. The bar was crowded for a Tuesday night, especially considering the gloomy weather. He made his way through the space leisurely, so as not to bump into anyone accidentally, lest they spill their drink, his gaze trained on the employees behind the counter. 

There were two bartenders, a man and a woman, working side by side as if they had done so for years. They stepped around each other as if executing a choreography they had practiced many times, never spilling so much as a drop of alcohol. The man, Lincoln, he knew well; he was engaged to Bellamy’s little sister, and Bellamy couldn’t be happier for them. He shifted his attention to the woman, and time seemed to freeze for a moment as he took her in: the wavy blond hair that cascaded down to her shoulders, the eyes of the brightest blue, the curve of her lips as they turned into a frown at the sight of him. Clarke. His Clarke. The same, and yet so different from the girl he remembered. Her figure had filled out, the girlish frame replaced by lush curves; she looked older, wiser, and so damn beautiful, he could hardly believe he had ever left her behind. 

‘Hey, stranger,’ he said with a confidence he didn’t feel, his heart beating savagely against his rib cage as he awaited her reaction.

‘Bellamy?’ Clarke whispered the name, unsure. Her eyes traveled over him, and he stood a little straighter under her penetrating gaze.

‘Princess.’ He smiled at her, the smile quickly turning into a smirk as he noticed twin blotches of red on her cheeks. He’d always loved teasing her and watching the color spread on her dewy skin.

‘Bellamy Blake. It’s been awhile.’ Her voice shook a little, which made him happy; he’d thrown her off her pedestal, knocking her off-kilter and now watched as she stumbled, nerves in her every gesture. 

‘I’m sorry about that. Maybe we could get together and talk?’ Bellamy asked her, holding his breath until she answered; would she yell and curse at him, which he knew he deserved, or be diplomatic and cool and accept his offer?

‘We’re here now. Talk.’ Clarke replied, her voice hard and her face impassive. He used to be able to read her like a book, and though he tried to do so now, she’d obviously gotten better at hiding her emotions. 

‘Clarke, need some help over here please!’ Lincoln called to her, and he almost sighed in disappointment at the abrupt end to their reunion.

‘I can tell you’re busy, I’ll leave you my card. Call me sometime, we can catch up.’ Bellamy took a business card out of his coat and slid it towards her on the counter. Then he turned and walked out the door, not looking back. She would call, even if it was only to yell at him.

***********************************************  
CLARKE

Clarke ran a brush through her hair quickly, rummaging through her purse with the other hand for her keys. She was going down to the bar she owned with her best friend, Raven. She was filling in for an employee who had come down with the flu, which wasn’t surprising considering the bipolar weather they’d had recently. One day it was gorgeous and sunny, the next raining and chilly, as if Mother Nature couldn’t make up her mind and pick a season. A few of their waitresses had gotten ill, and as they were already short-staffed, Clarke had gotten the short straw and had to work the Tuesday evening shift. Lincoln was the bartender on duty tonight, and while he could handle the shift by himself no problem on a regular night, there was a birthday party happening this evening. She would be there to lend a hand if needed, if not, there was a stack of paperwork on her desk waiting for her to find the will to deal with it.

She grabbed her coat from where she’d carelessly tossed it on the couch last night, found her keys and left the apartment she called home and made her way to work. She lived only a couple of blocks from the bar, but tonight the walk seemed much longer with the wind whipping through her hair. Should’ve brought a scarf, Clarke thought as she picked up her pace. When she walked in, the party was in full swing and Lincoln seemed swamped with orders, making several cocktails at once. She hurried to drop off her coat in the office and back up front where the action was. 

‘Talk to me!’ Clarke tossed over her shoulder at Lincoln as she grabbed an apron from under the counter. 

‘Three dirty martinis, one sex on the beach, two rum and cokes and four cosmos for the party, and a couple of beers for the gentlemen at the bar’, he said without looking up from the cocktail he was finishing up. He added a cherry and a lime and slid it towards a middle-aged woman who was leaning against the bar in an effort to get him to look at her breasts, which she was pushing towards him in an unnatural position that couldn’t possibly be comfortable.

‘Enjoy’, Lincoln told the woman with a nod, already turning back to start in another order. She grabbed her drink and left, presumably to find someone else to shove her boobs at. Lincoln was easy on the eyes, so of course the female clientele flocked to him. Yet he never gave any of them a second look, deeply in love with his soon-to-be-wife Octavia.  
Clarke fell into an easy rhythm with Lincoln, which came from years of knowing and working alongside him. He was one of her closest friends, and the first employee she’d hired. Neither of them talked as they made drink after drink, until everyone had a glass in their hand. Clarke grabbed a cloth and started cleaning the counter, picking up empty glasses as she went, sharing jokes with Lincoln as she scrubbed. The door opened with a bang, a gust of cold air making its way to her and making her shiver. She looked up from her task as a tall man walked in, shaking the rain from his hair. His dark, curly hair, just long enough to run her hands through...Could it be? Here, now? Stop it Clarke, she whispered to herself, turning back to her task. She grabbed a couple of empty beer bottles and turned to place them in the recycling bin. Octavia had warned her he might be coming back into town, but she didn’t think he would be foolish enough to seek her out.

‘Hey, stranger,’ said a voice behind her. Clarke froze; she knew that voice. It was deeper than it had been back then, but she would recognize it anywhere. Slowly, she turned around and braced herself for the shock of seeing him again, after all these years.

‘Bellamy?’ Clarke whispered the name, barely able to form the word. It was him. Bellamy Blake. Here. Standing in her bar, separated from her by 30 inches of counter. Her eyes traveled over him, drinking him in like a man lost in the desert drinks from an oasis. He was taller, his shoulders were broader, his hair a little longer, and his face had changed from one of a boy’s to one of a man, covered by a five o’clock shadow she found ridiculously appealing. But his eyes were the same. The same twin pools of chocolate she wanted to swim in until she drowned. 

‘Princess.’ His mouth formed the words as his eyes roamed over her, as hers had done to him. She shivered as his gaze traveled over her body, just like his hands had in the past. The old nickname hit her like a slap; he smiled, and she was horrified to feel a blush start to spread on her cheeks. Her body had always been a slave to his touch, craving it like it craved oxygen to survive, a mere smile from him enough to send her heart into overdrive. She cleared her throat, hoping to compose herself before speaking. 

‘Bellamy Blake. It’s been awhile.’ Her voice shook a little, and she hoped he wouldn’t notice.

He looked sheepish and turned his hands towards her in a what-can-you-do gesture. ‘I’m sorry about that. Maybe we could get together and talk?’ Bellamy asked matter-of-factly.  
Damn him for being so calm when her entire body was on fire! She grabbed the bar with both hands, as much to steady herself as to keep from running into his arms like nothing had happened, like years hadn’t passed since the last time she’d seen him. 

‘We’re here now. Talk.’ Clarke tried to harden her voice and keep her face a mask of neutrality, not wanting to betray her body’s treacherous reaction to seeing Bellamy again, and failing miserably. 

‘Clarke, need some help over here please!’ Lincoln called to her, and she almost melted with relief. Thank you, Lincoln she silently uttered to herself. 

‘I can tell you’re busy, I’ll leave you my card. Call me sometime, we can catch up’, Bellamy replied, a note of regret tingeing his words. He took a business card out of his coat and slid it towards her on the counter. Then he turned and walked out the door, not looking back. Clarke absentmindedly grabbed the card and put it in her back pocket, hurrying over to Lincoln to help him fill the orders of the raucous birthday party guests, her mind on the dark-haired man who’d broken her heart.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! So this chapter is in the past, before Clarke and Bellamy started liking each other ;)

BELLAMY

The music pumping in his ears only served to motivate him, so he dialed the volume up higher. The wind was pushing him backwards as he ran, but Bellamy welcomed the struggle, the challenge of pushing himself further. Sweat was slowly running down his back, the drops chasing each other in a race to see which one would get down to his waistband first. He liked to relax with a run after work before his other responsibilities kicked in: supper, clean-up, making sure his sister did her homework, before the sweet respite of sleep. As soon as he’d graduated high school, his neighbor had hired him with a full-time position for the renovation company he operated; Bellamy helped with whatever the older man needed done, learning along the way, and helped out at home with Octavia while his mother worked to support them.

Their modest house came into view at the end of the street and he stopped for a moment to breathe in the cold air before walking inside. Time to get supper ready, Bellamy thought. His sister was studying in the kitchen with a friend, and his mother worked nights at the restaurant, so it was up to him to feed them. He didn’t mind the cooking; he’d been doing it for years now. With a sigh, he took off his running shoes and whipped off his sweat-soaked t-shirt, deciding the shower could wait until after supper. 

‘Damn Bellamy, couldn’t you have taken a shower or at least worn a shirt? I have company,’ his sister, Octavia, whined when he walked into the kitchen. He ignored her, choosing instead to grab a glass from the cabinet next to the sink and fill it with water, taking the opportunity to check out their setup.

Biology textbooks, notebooks and pens were spread out over the kitchen island in front of them, sitting side-by-side on stools. He’d seen Octavia’s friend around school when he picked his sister up, but had never really paid any attention to her. She was one of those popular girl types, the ones who had school spirit and got good grades and never got caught doing anything wrong. In other words, not his type. She was pretty enough, with shoulder-length blond hair and piercing blue eyes, which at the moment were fixed on this bare chest. 

‘See something you like, princess?’ Bellamy mockingly tossed the words at her, and was rewarded with her blushing cheeks. She looked away quickly, biting her lip. 

‘You’re such a tool,’ Octavia laughed and tossed her eraser at him. He caught it easily, winking at her. 

‘Is your friend staying for supper?’ he asked her over his shoulder, turning away to start rummaging in the pantry for ingredients. 

‘Clarke. And yes, I’d love to, thank you’, Clarke replied easily. ‘Can I help with anything?’ she said next, already rising from the stool and making her way over to the sink to wash her hands. 

‘How are your chopping skills?’ Bellamy looked her up and down, doubting she’d be of much use in the kitchen.

She smiled slightly; ‘Excellent’. 

‘Chopping board’s under there, knives are on the counter. You can start with the onions’, Bellamy gestured to the cupboards left of the sink, and then plopped an onion on the counter. He started gathering supplies from the fridge, eggs, tomatoes, bell peppers, mushrooms, spinach and cheese loading his arms. He dropped it all on the counter next to where Clarke was chopping the onions like a pro, albeit her eyes were starting to water. 

Octavia was already gathering a skillet, bowl and whip, dropping them next to the vegetables on the counter. Next, she grabbed utensils and glasses, shoving their homework aside to make room to eat. Bellamy started grating the cheese, while Clarke, now done with the onions, started chopping the rest of the vegetables. 

‘Fuck!’ the curse was loud in the silent kitchen, and seemed to echo in the small space. Bellamy turned around fast, surprised. Clarke was clutching her hand close to her stomach, blood all over it. Her eyes were full of tears thanks to the onions, rendering her almost blind to the knife’s proximity to her fingers, which explained the injury. She grabbed a napkin from the kitchen island, wrapping it tightly around the wound.

‘Keep pressure on that and come with me’, Bellamy stated as he led her towards the bathroom. He put the seat down on the toilet and sat her on it, bending down to grab the first-aid kit from its hiding place under the sink. He started to peel the napkin away from her cut finger, but Clarke pulled her hand away.

‘I can do it myself’, she told him curtly, even though her pale face told a different story.

Bellamy kneeled in front of Clarke so they were eye-to-eye. 

‘Relax, princess. I got this. Just look away and try not to faint.’ Bellamy replied, matching her curt tone with his own. He grabbed her wrist with one hand to hold her still while he peeled the napkin gently from her skin with the other. He wiped her hand with a wet cloth he grabbed from the cabinet behind him, working fast to wipe away the blood, lest she decide it was too much for her delicate self to handle and faint. A dab of polysporin and a band-aid later, she was good as new. Clarke turned to look at him then, a slight frown furrowing her brows together; her eyes were no longer watery, and color was returning to her cheeks. 

‘Thank you’, Clarke murmured reluctantly, pulling her hand away from his strong grasp. 

‘So much for your excellent chopping skills’ Bellamy tossed at her as he cleaned up the mess he’d made while playing doctor to his sister’s injured friend. She smiled at the joke, acknowledging it, before getting up and walking back to the kitchen, back to her vegetables. Bellamy watched her go, his eyes fixed on the shiny blond waves of her hair, wondering why his sister was friends with someone who was clearly a snob.

 

**********************************

CLARKE

Clarke could feel her pulse in her index finger as she cut the remaining vegetables on the board. Octavia had already gotten rid of the pieces that had been contaminated by her blood while Bellamy had bandaged her cut. He irritated her with his smug attitude, like he knew something she didn’t; and what was with the whole ‘princess’ thing? She didn’t really like him, and she could tell the feeling was mutual. How could he be such an ass when his sister was so nice? One of life’s little mysteries, she thought to herself, watching them banter back and forth amicably. 

Vegetables done, she brought them over to Bellamy, going to sit at the kitchen island to watch him cook. He was still shirtless, and she could see his muscles move while he cracked eggs into a bowl and started beating them with a whisk. A dash of salt and pepper went in next, some spices and cheese. He cranked the heat on the stove, dropping some butter into a skillet as he went. Octavia sat down next to her, letting Bellamy do his thing. He seemed at ease in the kitchen, in control, relaxed; he dropped the vegetables into the sizzling butter, giving the skillet a toss. Slowly, he poured in his eggs and cheese mix, stirring until he made a fluffy omelet, separating it into three plates.

‘May I present, your dinner. Free-range eggs delicately whisked with a secret spice mix, garden vegetables lightly browned in butter, cooked to perfection.’ Bellamy gave himself a false air of arrogance, making Octavia laugh with his haughty description. 

‘Also known as an omelet. Enjoy.’ He winked at Clarke, and she couldn’t help but smile at his antics. He had a secret dorky side he probably only ever showed to his sister. She grabbed a bite of omelet and almost fell off her stool. The boy could cook. 

‘This is amazing.’ Clarke told him, already on to her next bite, not waiting for his reply. He gave her a small smile but didn’t say anything, already done and picking up his plate and fork. 

‘I’m going to take a shower, then I’ll walk you home’, Bellamy said, setting his plate in the sink. 

Clarke bristled; she didn’t need anyone walking her home, she was 17 years old, not seven. She opened her mouth to argue, but one look at Bellamy’s face and she thought better of it. She finished her omelet and helped Octavia with the dishes while he showered. 

‘You ready?’ Bellamy came back into the kitchen, wearing jeans and a t-shirt, his damp hair curling a little. She nodded, grabbing her books and putting them into her backpack. 

‘Thanks for helping me study, Clarke’, Octavia said, hugging her goodbye. ‘See you tomorrow.’

Clarke hugged her back, and let go to follow Bellamy’s retreating back. He grabbed a jacket from a hook by the front door and keys, gesturing for her to walk out ahead of him. She walked in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the crunch of the dry leaves under her shoes. It wasn’t late, but it was already dark, the streetlamps coming to life as they passed them. Her t-shirt wasn’t enough to keep her warm and she shivered as the cool air came in contact with the bare skin of her arms. Without a word, Bellamy shrugged out of his jacket and placed it on her shoulders. She looked up at him gratefully; his body-heat still clung to the garment, as well as the smell of soap and something she couldn’t describe, something that smelled of him. She shivered, this time not from the cold, but from something entirely different.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! This chapter is in the present, and I love the Blake's Relationship so they have a great one throughout this fic, and I always thought Clarke and Raven would make awesome BFFs, so there's some of that too ;)

BELLAMY

The whine of a power saw echoed in the vast space, accompanied by the sounds of hammers and power drills. All around him, his crew was working to put together the kitchen of his client’s dreams. Bellamy ran his hand on the wood countertop and breathed in the smell of sawdust, already covered in it from head to toe even though he’d just stepped inside. He loved this part of a project: when it was almost done, coming together to reflect what the client had asked for in a beautiful mess of curses, the whine of tools and materials laying in wait everywhere there was space to place them. He liked to oversee every aspect of a project, from the conception to the execution to the finished product. Over the years, he had put together a crew he trusted implicitly, and each of them did incredible work. 

‘Hey Murphy! Come help me install this countertop’, Bellamy called to the crew’s supervisor. 

Murphy was his second-in-command and a brilliant carpenter. They worked well together, which came from years of knowing each other. Murphy, aside from his sister and Clarke, was the person he was closest to. Correction: Murphy and his sister were the people he was closest to. Not Clarke. Not anymore. She had yet to call him, and it had been a week since he’d walked into her bar. 

The sight of her had brought back a flood of memories, good and bad, and he had trouble putting thoughts of her aside. He’d lain awake all night for the past week, tortured by visions of the past he had tried so very hard to forget. The smell of her hair, the curves of her hips, the freckles he had traced with his tongue too many times to count, the way she smiled at him in the morning when she first woke up...haunting him, taunting him, making him miss her so bad he ached, his fingers itching to run through her silky hair as he kissed her into oblivion. 

Murphy’s voice calling to him brought Bellamy out of his reverie and he shook his head, trying to focus on the task at hand instead of Clarke.

That night, he had supper alone with his sister while her fiancé worked; Bellamy was staying with them for the moment, unsure how long he would be in town for. Until the project was done at least, and he would see where the next project would lead him. He cooked for them, the action bringing back fond memories of their childhood when they would cook together while their mom worked. 

‘Have you been sleeping ok? You look tired,’ Octavia greeted him when he walked in the door; she was already chopping away at ingredients, several pots and pans in front of her.  
‘I’ve been thinking a lot about Clarke. She hasn’t called me,’ he replied truthfully, running his hand through his hair.

‘Give her time. It was quite a shock for her, seeing you again after all these years. It’s not like I’ve been keeping her up to date on your whereabouts; in fact, we avoid the subject like the plague. It’s better for our friendship if I pretend you’re not my brother’, Octavia told him, smiling to soften the blow. 

He smiled back, sadly. ‘I’m sorry, O. I never meant to come between you two.’

Octavia shook her head at him. ‘You didn’t. It just hurt her too much to hear about you at first, and it just became a habit, I guess. I still love you, though, big brother.’

‘Love you too, brat. Now move over and let the master show you how it’s done’, Bellamy said as he took a knife from the block on the counter, taking over his sister’s kitchen, his mind on the girl he had loved and lost.

**************************************

CLARKE

‘Clarke? It’s me! Are you ready?’ Raven’s raised voice called out to her from the entrance to her apartment. Clarke was in the kitchen, scrubbing away at the inside of her fridge, the contents now piled on the counter behind her. Raven was picking her up for an afternoon of wedding dress shopping for Octavia’s upcoming big day. Was it 13h00 already? Cleaning calmed her when she was frazzled, and she’d been stressed since Bellamy had walked into her bar. 

‘Over here!’ she called to her friend.

‘Shit, what’s wrong?’ Raven asked as she came into view.

‘Nothing’s wrong. I’m just cleaning my fridge’, Clarke replied simply, knowing her friend wouldn’t be fooled that easily. 

‘Please. I don’t believe that for a second. You’re cleaning an already perfectly clean fridge. So what happened?’ Raven fired back, hands on her hips, giving her a don’t-mess-with-me glare.

Raven wasn’t having any of Clarke’s bullshit excuses, and Clarke knew it. With a sigh, she got up from her crouched position in front of the fruit drawer she’d been scrubbing furiously, taking off the rubber gloves that covered her hands. 

‘Bellamy’s back. He came to the bar last week.’ Clarke’s words seemed to stun Raven, because she didn’t speak for a moment.

‘Fuck. Sorry, that’s all I can think to say. What is he doing here?’ Raven finally replied, reaching for Clarke to give her a hug. Clarke hugged her back briefly, turning back to start putting the jars of olive, jam and various condiments back into their respective spots in the fridge.

‘We haven’t talked. He gave me his card; I just couldn’t bring myself to call him yet.’ she replied as she took the jar of mayo Raven was holding out to her. She’d thought about calling him, had reached for his card, had even started dialing the number, but each time she’d stopped herself. Part of her wondered, was she making a mistake, letting him back into her life? But another, bigger part of her was curious to see what kind of man the boy she had known had turned into. 

Raven only knew of her history with Bellamy, not the man himself. They’d never met, as Clarke and Bellamy’s relationship had ended before Clarke had become friends with Raven, but Clarke had told her all about it. 

‘Are you going to? I’m with you whatever you decide to do. Just let me know if I’m mad at him or if I’m excited he’s back’, Raven winked at her, smiling. 

Clarke smiled back; that right there was why this girl was her best friend. ‘Jury’s still out on that one. Come on, let’s go look at wedding dresses with Octavia, you know she’ll kill us if we’re late’, she said as she closed the door to the fridge, everything back in its place.

Over at the bridal shop, they were greeted by a stressed-looking woman dressed all in black, a pile of gowns draped over one arm. They heard a scream from the back of the store and the woman hurried away, a pained look on her face.

‘Glad I’m not one of those kinds of brides’ Octavia shuddered as she greeted them from a small podium further into the shop. She was wearing a puffy gown with lots of glitter and a huge bow on her butt, and Clarke couldn’t help herself: she burst out laughing.

‘You look ridiculous, O’, Clarke told the bride-to-be as she dissolved into fits of laughter. Raven joined in, and pretty soon all three of them were giggling at the absurdity of the gown Octavia was trying on. While Octavia went back to the dressing room to try on something else, Raven and Clarke sat down on a velvet sofa, ignoring the bottle of champagne on the table in front of them. 

‘So I hear your brother is back in town, O.’, Raven called out to Octavia. The latter came out of the dressing room, wincing. 

‘I’m so sorry, Clarke. I didn’t think he would just show up like that; I thought he was going to call you first, at least. Are you okay?’ Octavia asked her gingerly.

‘You guys, it’s not a big deal. I’m fine. I am, I swear. Stop looking at me like that’ Clarke stated, staring them both down and waving away their concern. ‘This one’s a no,’ she added to Octavia, gesturing to the mermaid-style gown she was wearing. With a sigh, the girl went back into the dressing room, coming out a few minutes later in a sheath dress.

‘Nope!’ both her and Raven exclaimed at the same time. Back into the dressing room she went.

‘I think this is the one you guys,’ Octavia called out from inside the dressing room. She walked out slowly, stepping up onto the podium and holding her breath, waiting for their reactions. The gown was simple and elegant, an ivory silk confection that hugged Octavia’s figure to perfection. Clarke’s eyes were suddenly full of tears, and she blinked quickly to disperse them. 

‘You look amazing, O,’ Clarke said over the lump in her throat, Raven echoing her words. All three of them were crying now, and Clarke and Raven got up to hug Octavia. As they pulled apart, Clarke excused herself, rummaging through her purse for a Kleenex, her fingers wrapping against the card Bellamy had given her. Put on your big girl panties and just call him already! she thought to herself, her mind made-up. She took a deep breath and dialed the number on the card, biting her lip as she waited for him to answer the call.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! This chapter is set in the past, and Finn makes an appearance! Disclaimer: I hate Finn for what he did to Raven in the show, so he's an ass in this fic as well ;)

BELLAMY

His sister was having a party tonight, and the only reason their mom had agreed to this was because Bellamy would be there to keep an eye on things. While he didn’t relish the thought of spending his Saturday night with a bunch of teenagers, Bellamy figured he would rather the party happen in this house where he could watch out for Octavia, than she go off to somebody’s house on her own and get into trouble. 

His sister was scurrying through the house, setting up bowls of chips and platters of vegetables, putting away anything she found too breakable or embarrassing, when the doorbell rang. Bellamy took a handful of chips and walked to the front door slowly, not eager to have this evening from hell begin; when he opened the door, who he saw there made him think this evening might be interesting after all.

‘Evening, princess’, he smirked at the girl standing on his front stoop. She looked up at him and frowned, her usual expression when he was around. ‘Glad to see you’ve recovered from your injury,’ he added, pointing at her hand. 

‘Yes, well, it was touch and go for a while. I thought they would have to amputate, but it didn’t come to that’, Clarke replied without missing a beat, stepping into the house and closing the door behind her.

Bellamy laughed, surprised; he hadn’t thought his sister’s stuck-up friend had a sense of humor. He followed her into the living room, where Octavia was turning the television on to a music channel. Clarke went to work helping his sister set up, putting stacks of cardboard glasses next to a cooler full of soft drinks and juices. It was out of the question for them to have alcohol at this party, and Bellamy had made sure Octavia knew it. The doorbell rang again, Octavia running to get it this time; her guests started filing in, and Bellamy decided he could keep an eye of things from the comfort of his bedroom. 

He’d been watching a movie in his room for an hour when he decided he should go check on the party. The music was loud in the living room, and most of the guests were gathered there, playing spin-the-bottle. He went to the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water on his way back to his room. A small group of girls was gathered near the front door, giggling; they kept looking at the closet and whispering amongst themselves. Bellamy glanced at them, frowning, wondering what they could possibly be laughing at when he heard voices coming from the closet; a game of 7 minutes in Heaven was underway. He couldn’t make out what they were saying, but something in the tone of voice made him pause and step closer.

‘Finn, don’t! Let go of me!’ a girl’s frantic cries reverberated in the small space. Bellamy pulled the door open swiftly, grabbing unto the collar of a black t-shirt and pulling, hard. The boy came easily enough and Bellamy shoved him back against the wall, keeping him there with both hands around his neck. Clarke was huddled in the corner of the closet, a look of relief coming over her face when she saw him.

‘Did he do something to you?’ he asked her gently, still holding on to the asshole who had dared touch her against her will. 

She shook her head and he relaxed his grip on the boy’s neck a fraction, only enough to let him breathe, still furious with him.

‘Don’t you ever come near her again, you hear me?’ he spit the words at Finn, his face inches from the teenager’s, who merely looked back defiantly.

‘Let go of me, man. This is assault.’ Finn raised his chin rebelliously, as if taunting Bellamy to punch him. The urge was strong, his muscles already tensing, gearing for the fight, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him; Clarke’s.

‘I don’t feel so good, Bellamy’, she whispered, swaying on her feet a little. Bellamy let go of Finn instantly, wrapping an arm around Clarke’s waist and helping her to the kitchen, sitting her down on a stool to wait while he went back to deal with Finn. 

‘Get out, now! All of you! Party’s over!’ he shouted as he walked through the house, back to the piece of shit boy who had mistreated Clarke.

Finn was adjusting his collar, looking over at him insolently; Bellamy took a step towards him, fists ready to punch his smug face in until it no longer resembled a face, but the boy retreated like the coward he was. Bellamy let him go, hurrying back to the kitchen, to Clarke. She was sitting where he’d left her, her face pale, her eyes staring at the punch bowl in front of her. Bellamy narrowed his eyes, a thought occurring to him: had Finn spiked the punch bowl? Clarke certainly seemed drunk, and he didn’t think it was on purpose.  
He grabbed a glass from the neat stack next to the bowl and poured himself a small portion. Sure enough, there was the unmistakable taste of alcohol; it was subtle, but it was there. Suddenly, Clarke got up, swaying slightly, and walked quickly to the bathroom, dropping to her knees in front of the toilet. Bellamy let her go, intending to first go yell at his sister for the mess her party had created, before following Clarke to the bathroom to make sure she was okay.

 

************************************

CLARKE

Clarke had been crushing on Finn for a couple of months now, and the fact that he coming to Octavia’s party made her nervous. It was the first time they’d see each other outside of history class, and she wanted to make a good impression. She accidentally-on-purpose bumped into him in the kitchen, striking up a conversation. When he offered her a glass of punch she took it, drinking it fast, nervous. He poured her another, which she drank just as quickly. He refilled her glass for a third time and led her towards the living room, towards the group that was gathering for a game of spin-the-bottle.

‘Let’s add a twist to this game’, Finn said mischievously, ‘Whoever you get paired with, you go into the front closet for 7 minutes of Heaven’. He smiled at Clarke and she blushed, flustered. She drank her glass of punch, trying not to look at him and failing.

She went to the kitchen for a refill, bypassing the food; she was too anxious to eat. Back in the living room, she sat down for the game, keeping her eyes on her crush. Across the circle, Finn spun the bottle and Clarke held her breath, hoping it would point to her. The girls on each side of her sighed with disappointment when the bottle stopped right in front of Clarke. Finn smiled at her, taking her hand. She took it gratefully, feeling a little dizzy, letting him lead her into the dark closet.

‘Relax, princess’, he said as he pressed his body close to hers in the small, cramped space. 

The nickname sounded weird coming from him, and suddenly she felt uncomfortable, like she couldn’t breathe. Still, he pressed closer, until his body was pinning hers against the wall. His mouth was on hers now, his tongue pressing insistently against her lips, while his hands, which had been resting at her waist, started inching towards the hem of her t-shirt, creeping underneath. Clarke tried to turn her face away, to escape his advances, but he was too strong. She couldn’t move; she put her hands against his chest, pushing but her muscles felt weak, like Jell-O. A shiver of fear sliced through her, making her shiver.

‘Finn don’t! Let go of me!’ she cried out desperately, struggling to break free of his hold. 

The door burst open suddenly, and Finn was pulled off her immediately. Bellamy. He had Finn pinned against the wall, a look of such fury on his face she almost recoiled from him. She panicked a little at the thought that he could hurt Finn; Bellamy was over 18, and if Finn pressed charges, he could be in deep trouble. A wave of nausea overcame her and she swayed on her feet, relief and fear still battling to see which emotion would take over. A strong arm encircled her waist and she looked up quickly, but it was Bellamy’s face she saw. She relaxed against him, letting him lead her to the kitchen. She sat at the kitchen island, pushing aside the plates of food in front of her, the smell making her queasy.

Clarke stared at the punch bowl as if in a trance, lost in thought. She trembled, wondering what might’ve happened if Bellamy hadn’t been there, beyond grateful that she hadn’t found out. She felt sick to her stomach, still dizzy and weak. She walked as quickly as she could to the bathroom, dropping to her knees in front of the toilet and vomiting violently. 

She heard voices coming from the living room, what sounded like a fight between brother and sister. She knew Bellamy was livid at the turn of events, and she felt bad for Octavia, having to bear the responsibility by herself. The voices calmed, and Clarke heard Octavia’s angry footsteps make their way to her bedroom, the door slamming shut. Softer footsteps sounded behind her, and she felt her hair being pulled back gently from her face. 

‘I’m so sorry Bellamy’, Clarke whispered, turning to look at him. He was kneeling beside her on the bathroom floor, one hand still holding her hair. Without a word, he got to his feet, helping her do the same; he reached into the cabinet under the sink for a washcloth, a bottle of mouthwash, and some aspirin, setting the items on the counter quietly. He turned and walked out the bathroom, closing the door softly behind him. 

Once she was alone, Clarke used the washcloth to wash her face, and a swill of the minty mouthwash to rinse the taste of vomit out of her mouth. So this is what her mother went through on a weekly basis, Clarke thought, disgusted. Why anyone would willingly endure this was beyond her comprehension. She swallowed two aspirins and walked out of the bathroom, surprised to find Bellamy waiting for her.

‘You should call home, let your parents know you’ll be staying here tonight’, he said quietly. 

‘Don’t bother; it’s just my mom, and she won’t notice I’m gone’, Clarke replied plainly, not feeling like elaborating on the subject. Thankfully, Bellamy didn’t pry for more, seeming to accept her answer at face-value. He led her towards the back of the house, to his bedroom, his hand hovering near her back, presumably in case dizziness overwhelmed her again. He grabbed a t-shirt from a drawer in his nightstand, handing it to her. 

‘Here, you’ll be more comfortable in this. I’ll be on the couch.’ He turned to walk away, but stopped himself. ‘It wasn’t your fault, Clarke. That guy is just an asshole, and he shouldn’t have done that to you’, Bellamy told her gently. 

Clarke smiled slightly at him, her cheeks reddening. ‘I just feel so stupid, you know? I’m just glad you were there’. She winced, adding: ‘Thank you. For everything,’ in a soft voice. 

‘Night, princess’, he smiled as he said the words, and her heart skipped a beat. His usual expression around her was one of contempt, and the feeling was mutual. Or had been, up to this point. He walked away, closing the bedroom door on his way out. Clarke quickly changed into the t-shirt, liking the feel of it against her bare skin. She settled into his bed, pulling the sheets up to her chin; they smelled good, a blend of laundry detergent, spicy body wash and something distinctly Bellamy. She grinned, knowing his smile would consume her dreams for many nights to come.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all who left kudos on this work, means a lot to me! :)
> 
> So this chapter is set in the present. Enjoy :)

BELLAMY

When his phone had rung with an unknown number, Bellamy’s heart had skipped a beat; when he’d heard Clarke’s soft voice on the other end, his breath had caught in his throat. He’d wished she’d call, but hadn’t wanted to get his hopes up in case she didn’t; he’d shown up unexpectedly after a disappearing act that had lasted for years and he wouldn’t blame her if she wanted to go on pretending he hadn’t. Since his homecoming, he’d taken to hanging out at her bar on his time off, and they chatted a bit between customers, but hadn’t had the opportunity to really talk. Bellamy was staying at Lincoln and Octavia’s place for the time being, so he’d invited Clarke over for supper. He figured she’d always like his cooking, and might be more prone to forgiveness if he plied her with food. Brilliant plan or huge mistake? Time would tell.

He was distracted when he walked through the door, his mind on the woman he wanted so badly to impress tonight, so he didn’t pay attention to the clothes strewn across the entryway floor to his sister’s place. Vaguely, he heard indistinct sounds coming from the living room but he ignored them, still preoccupied with his evening plans. The spare key tinged against the floor where he accidentally dropped it, bringing him out of his trance. Bellamy stopped in his tracks, no longer distracted; was that moaning coming from the living room? Then he heard it, clear as day: Octavia’s voice, crying out Lincoln’s name in pleasure. 

He turned on his heels as quickly and as quietly as possible, muttering shit shit shit under his breath, a shiver of horror slicing through him. There were things you just did not share with your sibling, and this qualified at the top of the list. I need to book a hotel room ASAP, Bellamy thought as he walked out in a daze, not really seeing where he was going, stumbling a little along the way. 

‘Bellamy! Hey, are you ok?’ Clarke’s voice reached through his stupor and he looked up, straight into her ocean-blue eyes. He was standing in front of her bar, with no idea how he had gotten there. He shook his head, unable to voice the awful thing he’d just witnessed. He felt her hand wrap around his wrist and pull, and he followed her willingly, letting her lead him all the way to her apartment. Her hand was soft and warm against his skin, he thought dimly as he followed her inside. She led him to the couch and pushed on his shoulder lightly, indicating he should sit. Clarke sat on the other end of the couch, waiting for him to talk.

‘I walked in on my little sister and Lincoln. I heard them’ – he winced – ‘moaning.’ Bellamy had been looking down at his hands while he talked, looking up to find Clarke red-faced and clutching her middle as she laughed hysterically. 

‘I’m sorry!’ she gasped between laughs, tears now streaming down her face. ‘You just looked so freaked-out, I thought someone had died. But it’s just because Lincoln and Octavia were having sex in their living room?’ she dissolved into a fit of giggles again, and Bellamy sat back and watched her; she looked so damn beautiful, her hair loose around her shoulders, and his fingers itched to run through the silky strands. She wore no makeup, jeans that hugged her curves perfectly and a simple cotton t-shirt; nothing special, and yet he had never glimpsed a more stunning sight. The urge to wrap his arms around her and kiss her was overwhelming in its intensity, the desire to re-learn the curves of her body almost a physical ache. 

Their eyes locked, Clarke no longer laughing; she blushed, as if his libidinous thoughts had been spoken aloud. She cleared her throat, breaking the spell, and looked away, biting her lip. She got up slowly, Bellamy’s eyes trailing her every movement, like a predator tracks their prey. She walked until she stood in front of him, in the space between his legs, his hands reaching up to grab her waist. He pulled her towards him gently, and she went willingly, placing her knees on either side of his thighs, straddling him, her hands sliding to his broad shoulders. 

Bellamy pressed his lips against hers ever so gently; he leaned back, looking into her eyes, silently asking if this was okay. Clarke’s hand slid up to his neck, tangling in his hair, pulling him back in, while his hands slid around to cup her ass to beckon her even closer. He licked the seam of her lips and she opened them, his tongue sliding in to meet hers in a sensual dance. He broke the kiss, letting his lips skim her jaw, up to the spot under her ear that used to drive her crazy with lust; she sighed with pleasure, the sound heating his already boiling blood. 

‘I missed you, princess’ Bellamy whispered in her ear, trailing kisses along her earlobe. Clarke went rigid in his arms, scrambling off him as if he had burned her.

‘I’m not your princess, Bellamy. Not anymore’, she whispered sadly, a world of hurt reflected in the sapphire of her eyes. ‘You lost the right to call me that when you left me’, she added, her voice breaking a little. She stood in front of him, hugging her middle as if to protect herself from a physical blow. 

Her words hit him like a slap and he reeled from the guilt clawing at him, encircling his throat in a vice. Leaving her had been the biggest mistake of his life, and he had thought about her every day since.

****************************

CLARKE

Clarke saw the effect her words had on Bellamy; she’d shocked him somehow, but what had he expected? That they would pick up their relationship where they’d left it all those years ago, like no time had gone by, like they hadn’t rebuilt their whole lives apart from one another? She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts; the sensation of his lips against hers had felt incredible, his arms holding her just so right, like they had been made to fit around her waist. Even now, she longed to be back in his embrace, to let her guard down and just feel. Feel his mouth against hers, feel his hands caressing her skin, feel his breath as he sighed into her hair, hear him whispering those three little words that made her heart soar with delight. She’d been weak, letting her attraction to him dictate her actions, letting her heart take over her head, but no more. 

‘Clarke’. 

His soft voice brought her out of her reverie. He was still sitting on her couch, watching her warily, as if she might start hurtling accusations at him at any moment. 

‘I’m sorry, Clarke.’ He spoke the words softly, and her anger receded a little; he stood slowly, the tears in his eyes mirroring her own. He took two steps toward her, wrapping her in his strong arms, but she resisted the urge to hug him back. Still, he held her close, his lips coming to rest on her forehead for a kiss, and Clarke’s resistance melted away, finding solace in his embrace. They stood in her living room, holding each other close, his chin resting on the top of her head, for a long moment, neither of them willing to let go. Finally, Clarke pulled away a little, just enough to look into his eyes; she cupped his face gently in her hands, brushing her thumbs under his eyes to wipe away the tears gathered there. 

‘We’ve been through a lot together, you and me, and if you need forgiveness, I’ll give that to you. You’re forgiven, okay? It was a long time ago, and I’m exhausted from trying to hate you all these years’ she murmured. She was tired of pretending she hadn’t wondered about him all this time, weary of Octavia tip-toeing around her whenever the subject of her brother came up, drained from acting as if she hated him, when the truth was, she was afraid. Afraid of the depth of the feelings she’d once had for Bellamy, and the captivating effect he was having on her now.

‘I missed you so much, Bellamy’, Clarke added as he hugged her tightly to him. At long last, he let her go, running a hand through his hair, a gesture so like the old Bellamy that Clarke forgot for an instant that the man standing in front of her was a grown-up version of her first love. Instead, a surge of need sliced through her, making her shiver; back then, his touch had been electrifying, just one kiss enough to reduce her to a quivering mess. After the kiss they’d just shared, she couldn’t help but wonder what his touch would do to her now, what his hands would feel like as he caressed every inch of her skin. She cleared her throat, trying to compose herself, trying to find the right words to diffuse the tension. 

Her cell phone burst into song from its spot on the kitchen counter; Clarke walked over to it and seeing Raven’s name on the screen, she answered it, her gaze on the man in her living room. Bellamy walked over to her bookcase while she talked, studying her book and movie collections, occasionally pulling one out, observing it closely, and putting it back in its place, smiling at the pictures of Clarke, Raven and Octavia scattered throughout the shelves.

‘Sorry about that’, Clarke said, putting her phone aside and walking back into the living room. ‘Raven needed my opinion for an order for the bar. Ironic, isn’t it, that two women who grew up with alcoholic moms would end up owning a bar together?’ She smiled at her little joke, looking to Bellamy; he gave her a small smile in return, and Clarke’s heart gave a little squeeze. Uh-oh, she thought as she looked at the man who had the potential to break her heart again, Be careful, Clarke. Remember what happened last time, she warned herself, but it was too little too late.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is set in the past, and Clarke and Bellamy are slowly getting closer ;)

BELLAMY

It had been a long day at work; they were behind on a project and his boss wasn’t too happy about it. Bellamy had stayed to help him finish the job, adding a couple of hours to his workday. Thankfully, it was Friday, the weekend looming long and free ahead. He couldn’t wait to get home, take a shower, cook supper and relax, probably after listening to Octavia practice her part in the school play. His sister had joined the production of Romeo and Juliet, seemingly on a whim, and Clarke usually helped Octavia study her lines after school, so she was there more often than not. After his sister’s disastrous party, they’d shared a moment and he’d been forced to admit that he’d misjudged Clarke; she wasn’t the snobby, popular, mean-girl type he’d imagined. 

When he walked in, he heard Octavia’s voice, running lines yet again. He went straight to his bedroom, figuring he might be able to wind down a little before supper, surprised to find Clarke lying on his bed, reading, her brows furrowed together in a frown. She startled when she heard his footsteps, her face breaking into a smile at the sight of him. 

‘Hey. O needed some ‘alone time’ to learn her lines, whatever that means. Is it okay that I’m here?’ Clarke said, already sitting up. Bellamy nodded, climbing in on the other side of the bed and lying down next to her on his comforter. Clarke leaned back down, turning to her side to look at him. She’s so damn beautiful, Bellamy thought, looking at her in her usual jeans and t-shirt combo. But wait; was that his t-shirt, the one that had been missing since Octavia’s party?

Clarke followed his gaze to the item of clothing he was eyeing, her cheeks reddening with a slight blush he found endearing.

‘If you want it back, you’ll have to fight me for it. Finders keepers.’ she grinned mischievously at him and Bellamy found he couldn’t resist her charm, teasingly reaching for her. She pushed him away, smiling. Soon, they were playfully wrestling, Clarke’s laughs echoing in his ears. Swiftly, Bellamy restrained her arms at her sides, using his body to pin hers to the bed. She stopped moving, breathless, and their eyes locked. 

‘Have you ever thought about this?’ Bellamy whispered, his lips inches from hers.

‘All the time’, she whispered back to Bellamy’s delight. He started to lean down, to close the distance between their lips, when a knock sounded at his bedroom door; they sprung apart immediately, before the door opened and Octavia strolled in. Bellamy almost growled with frustration at the interruption, forcing himself to smile at his sister instead.

‘Hey sis, how’s the play coming along?’ Bellamy asked her, running his hand through his hair as he talked, hoping she hadn’t seen anything. She ignored him, focusing her attention on Clarke instead.

‘I need to talk to you’, Octavia said, gesturing to the cell phone in her hand. Clarke seemed to understand, getting up and following his sister out the door. He could hear them squealing on the other side, probably about some boy Octavia had a crush on. He would worry about the possibility of having to kick some boy’s ass for breaking his little sister’s heart later; his mind was on Clarke and the kiss they had almost shared. What the hell are you doing? he thought to himself. She’s your little sister’s best friend! 

He sighed, getting up from his bed – the scene of the crime – and dressed for a run, thinking the fresh air and exercise might do him some good, but no such luck. The ‘incident’, as he would now refer to it, was too fresh in his memory to wipe away, and felt too good to want to erase. 

************************************

CLARKE

Clarke squealed along with Octavia when the latter showed her the text her crush had sent her; he was asking her to run lines with her, and Clarke couldn’t be happier for her. Octavia had a crush on a boy in the theater club, her primary reason for joining, and he was finally noticing her. Clarke noticed the date on the text and her smile sunk; November 28th. She went to the school bag she’d left in a corner of Octavia’s room and starting digging through it frantically, looking for her cell phone. Ten missed calls from her mother. Shit shit shit Clarke thought to herself, grabbing her bag and practically running to the front door to get her shoes and coat.

‘I have to go! I’m sorry, I forgot the date. I have something important to deal with’, she explained quickly as she put on her shoes and jacket, sprinting outside and all the way home. Her lungs were burning by the time she got to her destination, her legs drained of all energy. She walked up the flights of stairs slowly, dreading what she would find when she walked inside the apartment.

The sound of breaking glass assaulted her ears from outside the door and she cringed; Clarke figured this might be a hard day for her mother, but hadn’t anticipated to what extent. She pushed open the door, stepping inside the entryway and stopping short; their living room was a mess, what had once been a bottle of vodka shattered in pieces on the floor, coffee table overturned. 

‘Mom?’ Clarke called out hesitantly, keeping her school bag in hand. She went straight to her mother’s bedroom and what she saw stopped her short: her mother, bottle of vodka in hand, her rumpled nightgown stained, swaying slowly from side to side as she sang drunkenly along to Frank Sinatra’s ‘The way you look tonight’, playing from the radio on her nightstand. 

‘Clarke! You’re home! Come dance with me,’ Abby called enthusiastically to her, almost dropping the bottle of alcohol in her hand. ‘Oops! Better save some for your father,’ Abby laughed, righting herself. 

‘Mom, dad isn’t here...you know that right?’ Clarke asked tentatively, not wanting to upset the already distressed woman. ‘He’s not coming’ she added softly.

‘Twenty-five years we’ve been married,’ Abby said, ignoring Clarke. ‘I wanted to make him his favorite dinner, but I forgot it in the oven and it burned. Can you believe it? I couldn’t even make him lasagna’, she took sips of vodka as she talked, tears gathering in her eyes. Clarke walked quickly to the kitchen, sighing with relief that the oven wasn’t on, burnt lasagna resting on the counter. 

‘Mom, I need you to hear me. Dad died, three years ago. He’s not coming back, lasagna or not’, Clarke went back to the bedroom, trying to extract the bottle from Abby’s grasp and failing miserably. The older woman turned on her, furious.

‘You’re a liar! Of course he’s coming back, he loves me. He would never leave me, not on our anniversary. Don’t you dare say those things to me ever again!’ Abby screamed at her, her hand flying out in anger. The slap resonated through her as it hit her across the cheek, and Clarke felt her eyes welling with tears at the sharp pain; shocked, she stepped back from her mother. 

‘I’m sorry mom; I didn’t mean to upset you.’ Clarke replied softly, hopping to diffuse some of the anger directed at her. ‘I’ll leave you alone, if that’s what you want’ she added, already backing out the door. 

It wasn’t the first time Clarke had witnessed her mother in this state; she usually calmed down after a while and slept until noon the next day. This time, however, this time was different; Abby had never slapped her before, and Clarke didn’t know what to make of it. She went to the bathroom, setting out the bottle of Advil and a glass of water for her mother’s sure to be terrible headache in the morning. She went to her own bedroom, stuffing clothes in her bag quickly and walking out the door, straight to Octavia’s house.  
Once there, she wiped her eyes quickly on her sleeves, knocking on the door. It was late, and she hoped her friend wouldn’t mind her showing up unexpectedly. 

‘Clarke?’, Bellamy asked questioningly when he answered the door. Without a word, she threw her arms around his neck, holding on tight. For a moment, he didn’t move, finally moving to hug her close.

‘What’s wrong?’ he murmured into her hair as he held her. Clarke pulled away, looking up into his worried eyes.

‘I had something to deal with. I’m sorry to just show up like this’, Clarke said, suddenly worried that she’d made a mistake in coming here.

‘It’s fine. Octavia went out, but I’m here for you, if you want to talk’, he said next, moving aside to let her in the house. She walked in, following him to the kitchen where he’d obviously been doing the dishes, a towel discarded absentmindedly on the counter next to some wet plates. Bellamy gestured for her to sit, going to the freezer for an icepack and wrapping it in a clean cloth, handing it to her and gesturing to her cheek.

‘Today was my parents’ wedding anniversary, and I forgot all about it. If I hadn’t forgotten, maybe I could’ve been there to keep it from getting this bad,’ Clarke whispered, looking down at her hands as she talked, tears gathering in her eyes again. ‘Ever since my dad died, my mom isn’t the same. She drinks a lot. Most days, you wouldn’t be able to tell, but today...today was hard for her,’ she added, finally meeting his gaze.

Bellamy crossed the distance to where she was sitting in two steps, coming to stand beside her. He put an arm on her shoulder, awkwardly patting it in a gesture of comfort.  
‘For the record, I don’t think you being there would have changed anything; what happened isn’t your fault. I hope you know that’ Bellamy whispered. ‘Is she the one who hurt you?’ he added in a hard voice.  
‘It’s never happened before, Bellamy. I swear. It just surprised me; I’ll be fine. Days like this, I just really miss my dad’, Clarke said softly, tears gathering in her eyes once again. Bellamy sat next to her at the kitchen island, his arm encircling her shoulders now, and Clarke found that his simple presence was enough to make her feel better.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place in the present, and as you've seen by now, it's one chapter in the present, then one chapter in the past, and so on...also this chapter has smut ;)

BELLAMY

When Bellamy knocked on Clarke’s door a few days later, he was greeted by the sound of her laughter as she opened the door, a look of surprise on her face. She obviously hadn’t been expecting anyone, dressed in gray sweatpants and a tank top, no bra, Lord have mercy on him. Her hair was piled into a messy bun on top of her head, her face covered in a mud mask. 

‘Bellamy! What are you doing here?’ she asked, taken aback. He held up the grocery bags in his hands.

‘I still owe you dinner, remember?’ he asked her playfully, smiling. She looked gorgeous, even with that stuff on her face. Another voice came from inside her apartment and Bellamy watched as a tall woman with brown hair in a ponytail came into view. Her face was covered in the same stuff Clarke’s was, although she was wearing jeans and a t-shirt.

‘Is this him?’ the girl asked Clarke, coming up to stand next to her. He looked at Clarke questioningly – had she been talking about him? – but she just shrugged, smiling. 

‘Hi. Bellamy Blake. Nice to meet you. You must be Raven’, he introduced himself to the woman, meeting her gaze briefly before looking back at Clarke. Raven shook his hand in a strong grip, frowning as she looked him up and down. The women stepped back and he walked in, going straight to the kitchen to unload the groceries he’d brought, meeting them back in the living room. They’d been having a girl’s night; that much was obvious from the packages of junk food littering the coffee table, a chick flick playing in the background. 

‘How to lose a guy in 10 days, that’s a good one’, he told them, sitting on the unoccupied end of the couch next to Clarke. Both of them looked at him, surprised. ‘I have a sister remember? I can do girl’s night like nobody’s business’, he added, smiling at them teasingly. 

Clarke smiled back, reaching for some watermelon shaped, sugar covered gummies on the table in front of her, extending her hand to him, gesturing for him to take some. He shook his head, but she insisted, frowning at him until he took a piece of candy from her hand. Satisfied, she turned back to the movie, smiling slightly. Raven excused herself for a few minutes, coming back with a clean face. 

‘Time’s up’, she told Clarke, who got up to go wash her face. Once she had left, Raven turned to him, her face serious as she spoke: ‘Listen to me carefully, Bellamy. I see the way you look at her but be careful; I won’t let you break her heart again. I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt because Clarke likes you and you’re Octavia’s brother, but it doesn’t mean I trust you’. She spoke softly but forcefully, presumably so Clarke wouldn’t overhear.

‘Losing Clarke was the biggest mistake of my life; I’m not letting her go this time’, Bellamy replied calmly, meeting Raven’s determined gaze with his own. ‘I can’t lose her, Raven. Not again,’ he added softly. 

Raven nodded, seemingly satisfied with his answer, before turning back to watch the movie. Clarke came back a few minutes later, face clean, claiming the empty space on the couch next to him. He longed to pull her close but refrained himself since her friend was here; there would be plenty of time for that later.

‘Are you girls ready for some real food?’ he asked them, eyeing the bags of chips, gummies and chocolate littering the coffee table. They both nodded, too entranced by Matthew McConaughey to pay attention to Bellamy, so he went to work in Clarke’s kitchen, making himself at home in her space. Clarke’s laughs reached him and the sound went straight to his heart; it had been so long since he’d heard her laughing, being happy and carefree. Maybe she’d never been carefree; back then, her mother’s alcoholism had robbed her of her adolescence. He just hoped he wasn’t robbing her of anything now; he’d seen no indication that she was in a relationship, and surely she would’ve told him if she had been.  
Bellamy rummaged through her cupboards until he found what he needed, filling a pot with water and setting a pan on the stove. He chopped shallots and bacon, measured three portions of pasta and set to work. When everything was ready, he grabbed two plates and brought them to the women in the living room, who were on their second chick flick, Laws of Attraction, going back for the third plate. They ate in silence, watching the movie, the occasional yummy moan of delight breaking the stillness. Raven’s phone rang, and she hurried to pick it up, going into the kitchen to talk. 

‘I have to go down to the bar, there was a mix up with one of our shipments’, Raven told Clarke as she came back into the living room. 

‘Do you need me to come along?’ Clarke asked, a note of regret to her voice. Bellamy waited for Raven’s answer, hoping for a negative one.

‘No, I’m good. I can handle it’, Raven replied, much to Bellamy’s relief. The women got up and went to the door, Bellamy waving his goodbye to Raven as she left.

‘Alright, so don’t worry about anything, I got this. Have fun, be safe, love you!’, Raven told Clarke as she hurried out the door.

‘Love you too!’ Clarke called after her business partner, her words sliding around Bellamy’s heart and squeezing; once upon a time, those words had been directed at him. Before he’d screwed everything up and broken the heart of the girl he had loved more than anything. He smiled at Clarke when she came back, shaking his head to dissipate the thoughts of the past. She smiled back, their gazes locking together; neither of them said a word as he grabbed her waist and pulled her on his lap, until she was straddling him, his lips meeting hers in a hot kiss. Their tongues dueled for dominance in a frenzied dance of mingled breaths and moans, Clarke’s hands tangling in his hair possessively, and Bellamy let himself get lost in the kiss; the hard conversations could come later. Right now, the feeling of having Clarke in his arms was too amazing to let go to waste.

 

***************************

 

CLARKE

Bellamy’s hands were sliding up her thighs slowly, and Clarke cursed the thick fabric of her sweatpants, the need to feel his hands on her skin overwhelming in its intensity. His lips left hers to find her jaw, trailing kisses along her neck, his mouth finding the spot under her ear and she moaned, lost in sensation. His hands were cupping her ass, bringing her body even closer to his, the bulge in his jeans meeting her core as she gasped at the delicious friction. 

‘Put your arms around my neck’, Bellamy growled in her ear, getting up from the couch in one smooth motion, still holding on to her ass and thighs with his muscular arms. She squealed, surprised, wrapping her legs around his waist, as he started walking towards her bedroom. He laid her gently on the bed, never breaking his hold, gravity making him fall on top of her and Clarke groaned, loving the feel of his weight. His lips found hers, their tongues battling in a heated combat of need as his hands found the hem of her tank top and pulled; Clarke broke the kiss only long enough for him to pull it over her head, their lips coming back together quickly, desperately. His hands roamed over her stomach slowly, moving up to cup her breasts, his fingers rolling her nipples gently between them; she moaned, his touch driving her insane with lust.

Clarke slipped her hands underneath his t-shirt, running them over Bellamy’s smooth, muscular back; she pulled it over his head smoothly, tossing it to the bedroom floor. They were now skin to skin, and she couldn’t get enough; she grabbed at his jeans, undoing the button and pushing them down his thighs. He got up to take them off, grabbing a condom from the back pocket before letting them drop next to his t-shirt, setting the condom on her nightstand. The cool air hit Clarke’s heated skin, making her shiver; his hands reached for the waistband of her sweatpants and panties, pulling them both down her legs slowly so she was left bare, blushing at his intense gaze.

‘You’re so damn beautiful, Clarke’, Bellamy groaned, climbing back into bed with her and wrapping her in his strong arms. He let his mouth roam slowly from her jaw down her neck, down to her breasts, finding a taut nipple and licking it until she squirmed underneath him. He moved to her other nipple, giving it the same treatment; she sighed his name breathlessly, already close to the edge. His fingers slid between her thighs, finding her wet core and stroking it slowly; Clarke moaned, and Bellamy slipped a finger inside, still working her core, his other hand cupping her breast, thumb stroking her nipple. She came instantly, her body convulsing around his finger as she cried out her pleasure.  
He kissed his way back up to her lips, her body still shaking with the aftermath of her orgasm. She reached for him, running over hands over his smooth, muscled back, to the waistband of his briefs and pushing them down his thighs. Clarke wrapped her hand around his length, and he hissed in a breath; she stroked him slowly, her other hand coming to cup his sack, and Bellamy groaned.

‘Clarke’ he murmured her name on a breath, pulling away from her reach. He slid his briefs down his legs to the floor, climbing back on the bed, pulling on the condom he’d left nearby and settling himself between her legs in one smooth motion, his arms enfolding her. Clarke wrapped her legs around his waist as he pushed inside her slowly, all the way to the hilt, stretching her, and they both moaned at the exquisite sensation. Bellamy started moving his hips at a leisurely pace, increasing his rhythm steadily, Clarke meeting him thrust for thrust until they were both panting, their moans occasionally interrupted by Clarke’s whispered harder or faster in Bellamy’s ear. Her orgasm was building rapidly, until she was on the brink of falling overboard; another thrust and she was plummeting, screaming Bellamy’s name as she came. One more thrust and he was there with her, moaning her name, his weight collapsing on top of her, his breath coming in hard. 

‘That was amazing’, Clarke gasped, still catching her breath. Bellamy leaned away a little to look into her eyes, kissing her gently.

‘My thoughts exactly’, he smiled, and her heart flipped over in her chest. Once their breathing returned to normal, he pulled away, going to the bathroom to dispose of the condom. When he came back, Bellamy climbed in next to her, pulling her close, dropping a kiss in her hair as he wrapped his arms around her. Clarke laid her head on his chest, their legs tangled together, absentmindedly stroking his chest with her hand letting the steady beat of his heart lull her to sleep.  
When she woke next, bits of sunlight filtered in through the window where the blinds hadn’t been closed. In her sleep, she had pulled away from Bellamy, and his sleeping form lay next to her in the bed. She turned to her side to look at him, studying him; his curls were a little shorter than they had been, his muscles defined by years of hard work and manual labor, skin sprinkled with scars here and there, the one above his lip partially hidden by his five o’clock shadow. He was older, more mature, but he still had the same effect he’d had on her back then; he could make her heart race with a single smile, his deep voice sending it into overdrive. Clarke ran her fingertips lightly on his skin, the memory of what they had done earlier heating her skin and making her shiver; she scooted closer, kissing him ever so slightly. His eyes fluttered open, and he gave her a slow, sexy smile that made her insides quiver. 

‘Hey’, he said in a sleep-roughened voice, sliding his hand around her neck to bring her lips to his. He kissed her gently, slowly, like he was savouring every precious second. ‘I had forgotten how nice it was to wake up with you next to me. The sight of you first thing in the morning...it’s quite beautiful’, he added, smiling at her. Clarke’s heart fluttered in her chest, just like when they’d been young and in love; she smiled back at him, but a small part of her brain warned her to be careful; sex was one thing, but falling back in love with Bellamy Blake was ill-advised.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is in the past, and it's basically Bellamy and Clarke being cute together.

BELLAMY

Bellamy woke up with stiff muscles the next day from sleeping on the couch; he’d given Clarke his bed after the mediocre night she’d had with her mom. His hands curled into fists at the thought that Clarke had been hurt, and not only that, but by her own mother. His mother had her faults, he knew that, but she had never laid a hand on either him or Octavia. With a sigh, he sat up on the couch, stretching, before getting up and making his way to the kitchen. He was surprised to find Clarke there, sitting at the kitchen island, pencil in hand, drawing on a scrap piece of paper.

‘Morning’, Bellamy greeted her, running his hand through his hair as he came to stand across from her. Clarke startled, meeting his gaze and smiling at him slightly. 

‘Hey’, she spoke softly, pausing to lay the pencil on the counter.

‘Is that me? It’s really good’, he added, his gaze fixed on the drawing in front on her. She blushed slightly, and the urge to kiss her overwhelmed him suddenly; they’d had a moment last night, and he wasn’t sure what he would have done if Octavia hadn’t interrupted. Or maybe he did, and he just couldn’t make sense of it. Him, with the princess? Nah.  
And yet, every time she smiled at him, he got a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach; him, who had never had a problem getting girls to go out with him, who flirted with all the girls he encountered, was suddenly getting nervous around girls. Well, around one girl in particular. What was happening to him? He shook his head, trying to clear his mind of thoughts about the blonde girl staring questioningly at him. Had she asked him something?

‘Sorry, was what that?’ Bellamy asked, running his hand through his hair again.

‘I didn’t say anything; you were just looking at me funny. Is something wrong?’ Clarke inquired, a slight frown furrowing her brows together.

‘No, no, everything’s fine. Sorry. I’m going to go for a walk, clear my head. See you later’, he answered, already making his way out of the kitchen towards the front door, grabbing a sweatshirt from a hook by the door. 

‘I’ll come with you’, the girl replied, sliding off the stool she had been sitting on and joining him by the door. He handed her a sweatshirt, both of them slipping on shoes without another word. Bellamy opened the door, gesturing for her to walk out first, and he followed her outside, wondering how on earth he would clear his mind of her now. Simple: he wouldn’t.

They walked in comfortable silence for a while, breathing in the crisp, cool morning air, their hands occasionally grazing; they each pulled away, murmuring ‘sorry’ every time it happened. 

‘It must be hard for you, having to take care of your mom, when she’s supposed to be the one taking care of you’, Bellamy spoke softly, glancing over at Clarke.

She nodded, her gaze fixed on the sidewalk at their feet. ‘I’ve been doing it for so long, I don’t really think about it anymore; it’s just the way my life is. When my dad died, it’s like my mom lost a part of herself, like half of her was gone, and she couldn’t function without that half. Some days are harder than others’, Clarke continued, gesturing to her cheek.  
Bellamy didn’t reply, simply reaching out to wrap his hand around her smaller one, twining his fingers with hers and squeezing softly; she looked up at him and smiled slightly, almost shyly. 

‘Must be hard for you, too, taking care of your sister’ she said softly.

Bellamy nodded. ‘Same as with you and your mom; it’s become second nature, looking out for her. My sister, my responsibility.’

‘You’re a good brother, Bellamy. Octavia loves you, and appreciates everything you do for her, even if she doesn’t always show it’, Clarke replied, smiling at him.

He smiled back, and the realisation that he could actually talk to her, talk to someone who understood what he was feeling, overwhelmed him; he didn’t usually talk about things with the girls he was seeing. They were mostly physical relationships, but with Clarke, he felt like he could open up without fear of judgment or reprisal; she just listened, accepting him just as he was. Bellamy looked over at her, at the blonde strands being whipped around by the breeze, at the intelligent blue eyes that could be full of sympathy one moment, then full of mischief the next; at the bow of her mouth, which could curve into the most stunning smile he’d ever seen, and realised that maybe he was starting to care about Clarke. Maybe he liked her, liked her as more than as his little sister’s friend; maybe he liked her, period. Once the thought had taken root inside his brain, it couldn’t be deterred; and so it stayed there, growing, spreading, all the way to his heart. 

********************************

CLARKE

As she walked with Bellamy, his warm hand still holding hers, Clarke thought about everything she’d told him, both last night and this morning, and felt as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. They hadn’t liked each other at first, but Clarke was grateful for the budding friendship she was developing with Bellamy; slowly, step by step, she was coming to like him more and more, and not only that, she trusted him. She was almost certain he had been about to kiss her last night, before Octavia had walked in, and she’d been disappointed that he hadn’t; the feeling had taken her off guard, and yet, it consumed her thoughts. She wondered what his lips would feel like against her own, what it would feel like to be wrapped in his strong arms as their tongues found each other; she shook her head, trying to clear it of the alluring notions she was having. She was his little sister’s friend, and that was most likely all he saw her as.

They walked back to his and Octavia’s house in comfortable silence, each lost in their own thoughts, Clarke surreptitiously observing Bellamy, their eyes occasionally meeting as he looked back at her. She looked away quickly every time, blushing, as if he could read her thoughts on her face. The house came into view, and she felt a pang of regret that their time together would soon end; she relaxed her fingers, letting them slip from Bellamy’s hand slowly as she walked ahead of him. 

Before her fingers had left his hand completely, she felt his grip tighten around her hand and pull; she turned towards him, surprised. Without a word, he pulled on her hand until she stood right in front of him, their breaths mingling in the cold air. Bellamy towered over her, his gaze never leaving hers as he leaned down to brush his lips ever so slightly against her own; Clarke didn’t move a muscle, stunned, her heart drumming against her chest. He pulled away slightly, his gaze silently asking for her consent; his hand came up to cup her uninjured cheek gently, his eyes still looking directly into hers.

Instead of answering, Clarke pressed her lips against his, softly, then more insistently; Bellamy kissed her back, his hand sliding from her cheek to cup the back of her neck to draw her close, until they were chest to chest, his other hand resting at her waist. His lips were soft and warm against hers, his body heat enveloping her in its intoxicating embrace; she felt his tongue skim her mouth and she opened it, letting his tongue sweep inside to meet hers. She grabbed onto his waist, as much to steady herself as to bring him closer, as close as two people could be with sweatshirts separating them. 

When Bellamy pulled away, breaking the kiss, Clarke almost cried out with disappointment; his arms stayed around her, dispelling the feeling somewhat. He rested his forehead against her own, his breaths coming in heavily, much like hers, and she felt gratified that she affected him as much as he did her. They stood like that for a moment, neither of them talking, until Bellamy stepped back, breaking all contact; he cleared his throat, running his hand through his hair.

‘I guess we’d better go in, before Octavia wonders where we are’, Clarke murmured, gesturing to the house, already turning towards the door. She turned back to Bellamy, smiling slightly, stepping forward to lay a quick kiss on his cheek.

‘This was nice. We should do this again, sometime,’ she added, before realising what it sounded like and fumbling over her words to add ‘I meant the walk and the talking. We should do those again. Not that I didn’t like the kissing; that was nice too. I mean–’ she stopped talking, pressing her lips together and trying to regain her composure.

‘I like you too, princess’, Bellamy leaned in close to her ear to whisper, before reaching around her to open the door and walking in, leaving her speechless on the front porch. 

Clarke smiled, thinking maybe she did like being called his ‘princess’ after all.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Present-day chapter, with Clarke taking care of a sick Bellamy because I think that's so sweet when that happens.

BELLAMY

Bellamy knocked softly on the door to Clarke’s office, not wanting to startle her, as she wasn’t expecting him, and pushed it open slowly. She was sitting at her desk, head bent over some paperwork, chewing on the end of a pen while she frowned at the sheets in front of her. Tendrils of hair escaped the bun she had twisted on top of her head and her glasses had slid halfway down her nose; she pushed them back up with her index, and he noticed she had been biting her nails again. She only did so when she was nervous about something. Clarke reached for a mug on the corner of her desk, taking a sip and grimacing at what he assumed had once been hot coffee now turned cold, as she had probably forgotten all about it while she worked. She looked like a sexy business woman, and he had the sudden urge to sweep everything off her desk and take her on it. He cleared his throat, shaking his head to dislodge the thoughts; now wasn’t the time.

Clarke looked up from her work, startled: ‘Bellamy! I didn’t hear you come in. What are you doing here?’

‘Raven let me in. I brought you supper’, he said as he held up the bags of take-out in his hands, stepping forward to set them on an unoccupied area of her desk. Clarke shoved the paperwork aside, grabbing for the bags and smiling at him when she saw what was inside.

‘My favorite! I can’t believe you remembered’, she said as she pulled out the cartons of spare ribs, eggrolls, fried rice and chow mein, along with chopsticks and bottles of water. Bellamy took the chair on the opposite side of the desk, sitting down and helping her open the containers, grabbing the fork he had asked for as he was useless with chopsticks. Clarke reached for the ribs, closing her eyes and moaning a little as she ate; he watched her, transfixed, the sounds she made making him increasingly uncomfortable as his desire for her grew. He shifted in his seat, the longing to bend her over the desk more powerful by the minute; she continued to eat, unaware of her effect on him, until she opened her eyes and met his hungry gaze with her confused one.

‘Hey, you okay?’ she asked innocently, putting down the carton of ribs.

He groaned, shaking his head, getting up and walking to the door to close it.

‘Does this door lock?’ he asked her sharply, his breathing heavy with longing. Clarke nodded, getting up from her desk and walking over to show him. She was wearing heels and a skirt, the fabric hugging her curves perfectly, and he lost his last tedious grip on his control. Bellamy crowded her, backing her up against the wall, his hands on either side of her head, effectively trapping her; the next moment, his lips were on hers, devouring, claiming her as his own. She melted against him, her lush curves pressed against the hardness of his chest making him groan.

‘Damn, princess. I’ve never seen you so dressed up’ he muttered in her ear.

‘I had a meeting –’ she started to reply, but he didn’t give her time to finish the sentence, his mouth crashing against hers, his tongue sweeping inside; she gave as good as she got, and soon they were both panting. Bellamy slid his hands down to her hips, her thighs, pulling her skirt up around her waist, then sliding around to the curve of her ass, cupping it in his hands. Clarke lifted her legs, wrapping them around his waist as he pressed his hips on hers, holding her steady between the wall and himself. She gasped when she felt his desire against her core, moaning when he pressed it even closer. 

‘Griffin? We need you upstairs!’ Raven’s voice reached them from the other side of the door, and it took all his might not to curse at the interruption.

‘I’ll be right there!’ Clarke answered, her voice hoarse, cheeks flaming red. She cleared her throat, disentangling herself from him slowly, reluctantly, even. ‘Sorry, duty calls. Thanks for, um, for supper’, she added, righting her clothes as she spoke. 

Bellamy nodded, leaning in for one last kiss before turning around to unlock the door and walk out, meeting Raven’s amused gaze. 

‘Night, Blake.’ She stood with her arms crossed, grinning at him like she knew exactly what they’d been doing, or about to do.

‘Night, Reyes,’ he answered with as much dignity as he could muster, considering Raven had just cock-blocked him and she knew it all too well. 

He walked home slowly, letting his mind wander; he was so easily distracted these days, his thoughts consumed with the woman he was falling right back in love with. The notion gave him pause; they hadn’t been seeing each other that long, but with a history like theirs, they didn’t need to. He knew everything about her, or he had; the rest he was learning along the way. Each new thing he discovered about her was like a gift being bestowed upon him, a second chance at an unbelievable love story he had screwed up once before; she had changed, matured, but underneath it all she was still his Clarke. His beautiful, sexy, smart, talented Clarke; the love of his life.

 

*************************

CLARKE

It had been a few days since Bellamy had showed up unexpectedly at her office, and Clarke hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him; they texted constantly, sending each other funny things they had seen on the internet, or simple updates about their days, until they could see each other again. Bellamy had been pretty busy with a project, and with Octavia’s wedding fast approaching, Clarke had bridesmaid duties that kept her occupied as well. She had just returned a call to the florist, making sure everything was in order, when there was a knock at the door. She frowned, not expecting anyone, smiling instead when she saw who was on the other side.

‘Bellamy? Are you okay? You don’t look so good’, she asked, concern evident in her voice. Clarke grabbed his hand, pulling him inside and helping him shrug out of his coat; he shivered, and she frowned as she laid her palm against his burning forehead, feeling for a fever.

‘I’m fine, don’t worry about me’, he smiled weakly at her, waving away her concern and swaying on his feet a little as he did.

She wrapped her arm around his waist, supporting his weight as she walked with him to the living room; he sat on the edge of the couch as she bent down to help him take off his work boots and socks, setting them on the floor next to the coffee table. He tried to push her hands away, but the look she gave him bore no argument. 

‘Lay down, I’ll be right back’, she told him, hurrying out of the room and coming back a few minutes later with some ibuprofen. Bellamy smiled up at her, gratefully taking the pills and glass of water she extended to him, and downing both. She pushed gently on his shoulder, indicating he should settle into the cushions of the couch, and he did so reluctantly; she knew the extent of his stubbornness and was glad he did as she asked. She pulled a throw over him, dropping a soft kiss on his forehead. He reached out a hand and grabbed her wrist gently, stopping her from leaving. 

‘Thank you,’ he croaked, his throat obviously too sore to speak properly. Clarke smile slightly, concern outweighing everything else; he didn’t look so good, his eyelids starting to droop with fatigue. He fought to stay awake for a few more minutes, finally succumbing to the exhaustion that must have been plaguing him for days. 

While Bellamy slept, Clarke settled in on the armchair next to the couch with a blanket and a notebook, sketching, filling the page with renderings of his face; he’d always been one of her favorite subjects, his handsome face filling many pages of her notebooks when she’d been younger. She drew in silence for a while, the only sounds the scratch of pencil against paper and Bellamy’s deep breaths as he rested. Eventually, she got up to rummage through her pantry, hoping she still had some chicken noodle soup stashed in there somewhere; she lucked out, her hand closing around a new box of soup mix. She emptied it into a pot, adding water and setting the stove on low to let it simmer slowly.  
She heard him stirring, and she turned to find Bellamy sitting up on the couch, flipping through her notebook and smiling.

‘I forgot how talented you are. These are amazing, Clarke’, he said, his voice still a mere croak.

‘Thanks. I’m just heating up some soup, it’ll be a few minutes still’, she replied, smiling. ‘Try not to talk; your throat needs some rest, too.’ 

She crossed the distance between them, laying her hand on his forehead and feeling for signs of a fever. He was still warm, but he wasn’t shivering and his eyes were clearer; she figured if he rested for a couple of days he’d be better in no time. She dropped her hand from his skin, going into the kitchen to serve the soup, ladling it into two bowls and bringing them back to the living room. Bellamy smiled gratefully at her from his spot on the couch, and Clarke’s heart melted a little; it was so like him to stubbornly ignore the symptoms of his cold until it was too late and he had to be forced into resting. He always took care of others so readily, always there to help a friend in need and putting their happiness ahead of his own; she’d witnessed it many times, especially when it came to his sister. She just wished he would learn to take care of himself, too.

After supper, they settled into her couch, Clarke insisting that Bellamy stay and rest. She knew if he went home to Octavia’s he would find a million reasons not to rest, reasons to go back to work; at least here she could make sure he got the rest he needed, and the company was nice, too. He had grabbed the remote, turning the TV on and putting on the history channel while she cleaned up the dishes, and now Clarke cuddled in close, her head on Bellamy’s chest, his arms around her. 

He pulled the blanket she kept on the back of the couch over them, placing a gentle kiss on her head. She leaned her head back, and his next kiss fell on her lips; he smiled, and her heart skipped a beat. He had a way of smiling at her that made her feel desirable and special all at once and Clarke felt the close hold she kept on her heart loosening slowly, letting him in deeper and deeper, until he consumed it whole. It was a dangerous thought, but she let it form fully anyway; they weren’t the same people they had been back then. They’d grown up, changed, and there were no obstacles in their way this time. 

‘Thank you, for keeping me alive’, he whispered in her ear, making her laugh at the dramatic tone of his voice.

‘It’s just a cold, Bellamy. It’s not exactly life-threatening, but you’ve got such a big heart, sometimes you forget that you need to take care of yourself, too’, Clarke replied seriously, meeting his gaze. 

‘I’ve got you for that’, Bellamy answered, winking at her. When she frowned in response, he added: ‘I get it, Clarke. Thanks for worrying about my well-being; I’ll do better, I promise. But can you blame me? I got a great doctor out of this whole thing’, he winked at her again, and she couldn’t help but smile back. He was such a sweet guy; it was easy to forget that he had once betrayed her and left her broken-hearted and hopeless.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the past again, with some Blake-siblings interaction. I love their relationship so much, I hope the show fixes them!

BELLAMY

Bellamy whistled as he made breakfast, his good mood at odds with Octavia’s grumpiness; she wasn’t a morning person, never had been. It wasn’t early by any definition of the word, but she was still in a bad mood. He whipped some eggs with some milk and sugar, dipping slices of bread in the mix and setting them in a hot pan he had buttered; he was making Octavia’s favorite breakfast, hoping it would cheer her up. She’d been in a bad mood for the last couple of days, and he was concerned something had happened. He topped the cooked French toast with berries and syrup, setting the plate on the island in front on him.

‘Why so grumpy?’ 

Octavia mumbled something under her breath, reaching for the plate, but Bellamy slid it out of her reach before she could grab it, looking down at her sternly. 

‘Fine! If you must know, I broke things off with Atom, okay? Happy now?’ she muttered darkly, meeting his gaze defiantly.

‘O, I’m sorry, I didn’t know. Are you okay? Do you need me to beat him up?’ he asked, only half-teasing; if that boy had done anything to hurt his sister, he was in for a world of pain.

She smiled a little at his comment. ‘No, it’s fine. I’m fine. He just wasn’t it for me, that’s all’.

He slid the plate towards his sister, and she immediately dug in to her breakfast. ‘You’re strong enough to handle anything life throws at you, O. But as your older brother, it’s my job to protect you, so I had to ask’.

‘Thanks, Bell.’ She smiled at him gratefully, and he knew she would be fine. The front door opened and in walked Clarke, rushing straight to Octavia’s side and dumping a grocery bag on the island.

‘Are you okay? What happened?’ she asked, putting her arms around her friend and hugging her tight. 

Octavia smiled sadly, shaking her head. ‘Nothing really happened, I just realised I didn’t love him like that, as more than a friend. He’s nice, but he’s just not it for me’.

Clarke nodded, seeming to understand what she meant; Bellamy didn’t, not really. Wasn’t it for her? What was it exactly? As far as he was concerned, he met a girl he liked, he flirted, they had some fun and then parted ways, and there was nothing wrong with that.

While the girls talked, he made more French toast, silently sliding a plate towards Clarke. She looked up at him, smiling gratefully, and he was struck by how beautiful she was; logically, he knew she was good-looking, had always thought so, but the more he got to know her, the more he realised her beauty went far beyond the physical. She was kind and intelligent, compassionate and sweet; just look at the way she’d rushed over here in Octavia’s time of need with a bag full of junk food and chick flicks, he discovered when he peeked inside.

When they had finished eating, he waved them out of the kitchen, washing the dishes quickly. He was drying the last plate when Clarke walked back into the kitchen, marching straight up to him and placing a soft kiss on his cheek.

‘Thanks for breakfast’, she murmured, turning back to walk away. He caught her arm gently, stopping her in her tracks, setting the plate on the counter behind him. They hadn’t talked about the kiss they had shared a couple of weeks ago, in fact Bellamy thought Clarke had been avoiding him since then. He knew it had been a mistake that kiss; she probably thought he was some sort of creep who liked to seduce his little sister’s friends. A mistake, but not one he regretted; it consumed his every waking moment, the scene replaying on a loop in his mind while he wondered how Clarke felt about it, about him. They were forging a tentative friendship based on their mutual love for Octavia, and he didn’t want to risk hurting Clarke and driving her away, ruining her relationship with his sister.

Clarke was looking at him questioningly, her gaze bouncing between from his face to his hand on her arm and back to his face, where it locked with his.

‘I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, the other day. It won’t happen again. Friends?’ he asked her, letting go of her arm to hold out her hand for her to shake, holding his breath as he waited. Something akin to disappointment flickered across her face, before her hand finally came up to shake his, her smaller hand engulfed in his own.

‘Friends.’  
He held her hand a moment longer, before dropping it and turning back to the plate he had abandoned. When he turned back around, she was gone.

**********************************

CLARKE

Bags of chips, marshmallows, gummies and various chocolate bars covered the coffee table in Octavia’s living room. The girls had put on a favorite movie of theirs, Dirty Dancing, and were busy applying face masks as they watched. Octavia jumped up to go wash her hands, making a detour to the kitchen on her way back for some beverages.

‘You girls need anything?’ Bellamy asked her, sticking his head in the doorway.

Clarke shook her head, smiling at him. ‘We’re fine. You can watch the movie with us, if you want,’ she answered, gesturing towards the TV.

He hesitated for a moment before coming to sit on the opposite end of the couch from her. Clarke frowned, scooting closer and bringing the container of face mask with her. She dipped her fingers in the pot, coming up with a generous amount of product and setting her hands on Bellamy’s cheeks. She rubbed the mask on his skin gently, on his forehead, the bridge of his nose, on his chin and his cheekbones, covering those freckles of his, until her eyes met his; Clarke stopped moving, the intimacy of the moment catching up to her. Her hands still on his face, she breathed in slowly, trying to calm her rapidly increasing heartbeat; she was sure he could hear it, it thundered so loudly in her chest. Their lips were mere inches apart, their breaths mingling as they stared at each other, unsure; she desperately wanted to slay the distance between them, to press her lips against his and feel his tongue claim her mouth as his own.

‘Is water okay because I also have juice or soda, depending on...what...you...feel...like...drinking,’ Octavia’s voice faltered as she walked in to find her brother and her best friend making googly eyes at each other. Clarke startled, dropping her hands from Bellamy’s face and clearing her throat, her cheeks on fire. She hoped the mask hid the redness, though Octavia’s knowing smirk told her it wasn’t good enough camouflage.

Bellamy reached for a bag of chips, his loud munching breaking the awkward silence they had fallen into, and Octavia sat down next to Clarke, setting bottles of water on the table in front of them; Clarke reached for one gratefully, taking a few sips to cool her down. She was extremely aware of Bellamy’s presence next to her; every time he moved, his arm brushed against hers and it was all she could do not to shiver when his skin touched hers. Friends. Right, she thought to herself, I wonder how long that’s going to last.

After the movie, the girls had moved to Octavia’s room, and they were now lounging on her bed. 

‘So, is something going on between you and my brother?’ Octavia asked her curiously. 

Clarke bit her thumbnail, considering, before finally answering. ‘No! Yes? I don’t know. Would it be weird for you if there was?’

‘That’s something I thought I’d never see. You and Bellamy, together...but I’m not blind, I see the way you look at each other. You care about him’, Octavia replied, smiling. 

‘We didn’t like each other much at first, that’s no secret. But now...I don’t know. There’s something about him; he’s special, O.’ Clarke replied, a blush creeping over her cheeks.

‘Don’t get all mushy on me, Griffin. It’s not your style’, Octavia bumped her shoulder against hers jokingly, smiling. Clarke smiled back, her mind drifting to the boy who made her heart beat faster; I like you too, princess. His voice still reverberated in her thoughts, and she held on to the words like a promise. They were on the edge of a beautiful love story, if only one of them was brave enough to take the first plunge.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Present-day chapter, with some smut, so be warned ;)

BELLAMY

Bellamy looked over at the sleeping form lying in bed next to him and felt his heart give a tug; old feelings rested close to the surface, ready to bubble overboard if he let them. Old feelings mixed in with new, until his heart threatened to burst; Clarke, his beautiful, smart, kind, amazing Clarke, was back in his arms and in his life. He was terrified of losing her again, of saying the wrong thing, but he knew they’d have to talk about the past eventually. It hung between them, the unspoken truth, laden with emotions he had locked away out of self-preservation. They had been growing closer these past few weeks, and Bellamy knew he would face some tough decisions soon enough; her whole life was here, in this town, and his wasn’t. Or hadn’t been, until now.

Clarke sighed in her sleep, bringing him out of his reverie and he snuggled in close, her back against his chest; his hand rested at the curve of her hip, and he trailed kisses along her shoulder slowly, counting the freckles on her skin as he did. She shifted in his arms, bringing her ass in direct contact with his growing erection and he hissed in a breath; she moved again, deliberately slow, and he almost moaned at the sensation.

‘Clarke...’ he whispered a warning in her ear, the hand that had been casually resting on her hip tightening its hold on her. She wiggled again, and this time, a moan escaped his lips; his hand slid leisurely up her stomach, under her tank top, stopping to cup her breast and tease a nipple until it was a hardened peak. She moaned at his touch, turning in his arms until she faced him, capturing his lips with hers. Bellamy’s tongue slid between her lips to meet hers, his hand moving to her other nipple. He rolled it gently in his fingers, Clarke’s sighs driving him crazy with lust; he pulled at her clothes until she was bare, his gaze roaming over her perfect curves and drinking her in hungrily. He shed his own clothes quickly, reaching for her, but she pushed him away gently, until he lay on his back. Clarke trailed kisses along his jaw, down his neck, along his collarbone, letting her mouth trail his heated skin down to his chest, his stomach. Bellamy hissed in a breath, murmuring her name on a sigh.

‘Clarke’, his hands grabbed her arms, stopping her from going further. Their eyes met, and she smiled mischievously at him, breaking free of his grip. 

‘No touching. Grab the headboard and don’t let go until I say you can’, Clarke whispered, waiting for him to do as she said. He let go of her arms to grab the headboard, and she kissed her way down his stomach to his straining erection. She wrapped one hand around it, licking the drop that was glistening at its head; Bellamy moaned as she wrapped her lips around his shaft, taking him deep into her mouth, sucking him down. She watched him as she did, watched as his muscles tensed with need; her other hand went to cup his balls, working them gently as her mouth worked his penis. 

The urge to touch her was too strong, need coursing through him like lava; he pulled Clarke up for a kiss and she straddled him, her wet core meeting his erection and making them both groan. His hands grabbed her waist and pulled her up higher, until she was straddling his face. His tongue found her center and licked, oh so slowly, and Clarke moaned, leaning into Bellamy’s touch. He slid one finger inside, then two, still licking her sensitive core while she rode his fingers, her orgasm already shaking her.  
‘Bellamy!’ she screamed his name as she came, and he felt a surge of need shoot through him; she was gorgeous, gloriously naked and trembling from the aftermath of his touch, and he almost came right then and there.

‘Please tell me you have protection’ Bellamy growled, the need to be inside her and feel her inner walls clench around him as she came overwhelming in its intensity. 

‘In the nightstand’, she gasped back, already leaning towards it and opening the drawer. Clarke tore open the package, rolling the condom onto Bellamy’s taut erection and positioning herself over him. She sank down slowly, both of them moaning at the sheer pleasure coursing through their bodies. His hands found her breasts, cupping them, rolling her stiff nipples between his fingertips as she rode him, her own hand coming down to touch the little nub of pleasure he had licked earlier. Clarke taking charge of her own pleasure like that...the visual almost undid him. He felt her clench around him and he knew she was close; he bent his knees, the angle allowing him to penetrate her even deeper. 

‘Oh god, Bellamy. Right there!’ Clarke screamed as her orgasm overtook her, and Bellamy followed suit, groaning her name in absolute pleasure. She collapsed on top of him, spent, taking a moment to catch her breath. He stroked her back lazily, inhaling the floral scent of her hair, the silky waves tickling his nose. Bellamy pushed it aside gently, baring her shoulder for a kiss. She sighed in his ear, moving to lie down next to him; he disposed of the condom, coming back to bed and pulling her in his arms. Clarke laid her head on his chest, her hand resting against his heart, and he dropped a kiss on the top of her head; he’d missed this, missed her, and he sure as hell wasn’t letting her go this time. His stomach rumbled, making her laugh, and his heart squeezed painfully in his chest; her laugh had to be one of the most beautiful sounds he’d ever heard, and he wanted to keep making her laugh for the rest of their lives. 

‘Come on, I’ll feed you before you pass out from hunger,’ Clarke said playfully, getting out of bed. She pulled on panties and his t-shirt, the latter hanging loosely on her smaller frame, the hem skimming her thighs; her hair was in disarray, and yet, he’d never seen a more beautiful sight. His stomach rumbled again as he pulled on his boxers and jeans, and she laughed again, sending a jolt of pure joy through him. Bellamy grabbed at her waist, tickling her, but she dashed away, giggling; he chased after her, throughout her apartment, chuckling at her antics. Finally, he caught her, trapping her between him and the wall; with his arms on either side of her head, he leaned in close, crowding her, his face mere inches from hers. She looked up at him, breathless and silent, smiling; their gazes locked together, and seeing the intensity in his eyes, her smile slowly faltered.

‘Clarke –’ he murmured her name, stopping himself when a knock sounded at the door. He dropped his arms from around her, letting Clarke walk over to answer the door. 

‘Hey babe, long time no see’, a voice reached him when she opened the door, and Clarke squealed and threw herself into the other person’s arms.

**********************************

CLARKE

Clarke hadn’t been expecting company, so when the knock sounded at the door, she was surprised; her surprised doubled when she saw who was on the other side.

‘Niylah! Omg, what are you doing here? I thought you were in Paris!’ she exclaimed, hugging the other woman close. Niylah laughed, hugging her back while she explained.

‘I was, until a couple of days ago. I’m back in town for a while, thought I’d come by and pick up my stuff. Am I interrupting something?’ she said, looking from Clarke to Bellamy and smiling knowingly. Clarke felt a blush creep up her cheeks at the question, looking down at her lack of clothes and closing her eyes briefly in embarrassment. 

‘So, um, come in. This is Bellamy, by the way. Bellamy, this is Niylah,’ Clarke gestured between the two as she introduced them, backing away to let Niylah walk into the apartment.  
‘Nice to meet you, Niylah’, Bellamy said politely, reaching out to shake her hand, looking at Clarke questioningly as he did. Clarke bit her lip, avoiding his gaze. 

‘Likewise,’ the woman replied, smiling at him. She cleared her throat, looking to Clarke. ‘I’ll just grab my things and go, I can see you’re busy.’

‘Right! Your stuff. I’ll be right back’, Clarke jumped into motion, going into the bedroom to rummage through her closet. She could hear Bellamy and Niylah making polite conversation in her entryway, and she knew Bellamy had to be wondering who this woman was to her. She shook her head, trying to clear it of the pinch of guilt she was feeling; they weren’t together, she had nothing to feel bad about. She found the box she was looking for, grabbed it and walked back to her guests, stopping to pull on a pair of sweatpants. 

‘Here you go. I think it’s everything,’ Clarke said as she came back, handing the box over to Niylah, still avoiding Bellamy’s gaze. 

‘Thanks hon. I’ll call you later, maybe we can go for coffee, catch up. Nice to meet you, Bellamy’, Niylah said, grabbing the box and leaving. Clarke closed the door behind her, taking a breath before turning back to face Bellamy.

‘Her stuff huh? How long were you together?’ Bellamy asked her, arms crossed and staring at her intently. 

‘A year, give or take,’ Clarke replied, clearing her throat nervously. 

‘So you were in a relationship serious enough that you lived together and you never thought to mention it?’ Bellamy said, irritation clear in his voice.

‘No, I didn’t; I don’t owe you an explanation here, Bellamy. It’s not like we’re – ’ she stopped suddenly, pressing her lips together.

‘It’s not like we’re what? Together?’ his voice was louder now, and she flinched at the anger radiating off him.

‘We’re just...messing around. It’s not serious or anything.’ As soon as the words crossed her lips, she regretted them, even more so after seeing the hurt look on Bellamy’s face.

‘Messing around? Is that what you think we’re doing?’ he said in a cold voice, one she’d never heard him use before. ‘My mistake, for thinking there was more between us than just sex’ he added, tossing the words at her like an accusation.

Clarke winced, his words hitting her like tiny knives to the heart. ‘I can’t let you break my heart again, Bellamy. I couldn’t survive it, not this time,’ she whispered, looking up at him through eyes filled with tears.

‘I would never hurt you, Clarke.’ Bellamy took a step towards her, only to stop at her next words.

‘I once thought that, too.’ 

He looked like she’d punched him; regret and sorrow battled for dominance on his face, the emotions chasing each other in a never-ending loop of despair as he assimilated her words. 

‘I’m sorry, Bellamy. I shouldn’t have said that. It’s in the past, let’s just forget I said anything’, Clarke added, the distress on his face too much for her to bear. Bellamy shook his head, running his hand through his hair and finally looking up to meet her gaze with his tear-filled one. 

‘No. Let’s talk about it. If we don’t, it will always hang between us, tainting our future. I did hurt you, Clarke, and it’s the biggest regret of my life. I loved you, and I lost you, and I don’t want to lose you again. Ever.’ He paused, his brows crinkling together as he thought about his next words. When he spoke again, his voice was soft, almost a whisper.  
‘When I woke up, for one small moment, I thought you were dead. I thought I had lost you forever. It scared the hell out of me, how much I cared about you. I’d never had that with anyone else, Clarke. Not like that.’

‘Bellamy – ’ she started to reply, but he shook his head, cutting off her words.

‘Don’t. I need you to hear this. It was a cowardly thing to do and I’m ashamed of it still; I should never have left you. I’m sorry, Clarke,’ Bellamy continued, his gaze now on the floor, unable to meet hers. ‘These past few weeks have been amazing, and I realised what I had been missing in my life was you. I need you, Clarke’. He looked into her eyes then, waiting.

Clarke stared at him, shaken, not uttering a word. The only sound was the sound of her breaths, shallow and quick, as she tried to understand what he was telling her. 

‘You need me? You left me!’ she burst out, long-repressed anger flowing into her words.

‘Clarke – ’

‘No, Bellamy! You left me when I needed you most. I loved you, I trusted you, and you broke my heart. I can’t let you close enough to hurt me like that again. I won’t,’ she added, the tears gathered in her eyes flowing down her cheeks now. She brushed at them angrily, squaring her shoulders and staring him down. ‘I think you should go,’ she said finally, crossing her arms across her middle as if to protect herself from a blow.

Without a word, Bellamy grabbed his coat and shoes and walked out of her apartment, leaving her alone and crying, just like he’d done years ago.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the past, getting closer to Prom Night, as they shop for dresses. Enjoy!

BELLAMY

Bellamy sighed, looking at his phone for the twentieth time in just as many minutes, hoping the time would go faster; Octavia was in the dressing room with Clarke, and he could hear them giggling behind the curtain as they tried on dresses for their upcoming Prom. It was still early to be shopping for dresses, but his sister had insisted that if they went now, they would get a better deal as well as more choice, and who was he to argue with that? He knew nothing about dresses, but the girls still made him judge their outfits, coming out once in a while in a sequined number he would either nod at or shake his head no. 

‘I think this is the one,’ Octavia said as she came out in a deep blue a-line, strapless dress that went all the way down to her feet. She was smiling as she was checking herself out in the mirror, twirling every which way. Bellamy smiled as he watched her; it was nice to see her looking so happy. After Atom, she’d been feeling down for a few weeks, but he was glad to see that she was back to normal now. 

‘You look amazing, O’ he replied truthfully, and the girl smiled back, before her face fell.

‘Mom will never let me get it, though. It’s too expensive.’ Octavia said next, disappointment clear as day in her voice. Bellamy frowned, thinking for a moment before replying.  
‘Mom’s not buying you that dress. I am. You think I would let you miss out on Prom just because we can’t afford a dress? No way. I’ve been working extra shifts lately, it’s fine.’ He watched her carefully as Octavia registered his words, the biggest smile he’d ever seen making her face glow with excitement. She threw herself at him, hugging him and screaming.

‘Thank you, thank you, thank you!’

He smiled into her hair, hugging her back briefly before pushing her away gently. She walked back into the dressing room to change into her own clothes, just as Clarke was stepping out in a gown of her own. It was a blush-colored dress, an off-the-shoulder siren style with lace details, which hugged her curves to perfection; his breath caught in his throat, and he swallowed audibly. 

‘What do you think?’ she asked him, looking at her reflection in the mirror and biting her lip uncertainly.

‘I, uh...Hmm. Yeah.’ He ran his hand through his hair, clearing his throat and trying to speak but failing miserably. Clarke smiled at him in the mirror, clearly amused by his reaction.

‘You look like – ’ Bellamy started talking, but stopped.

‘A princess? Thanks, Bellamy’, Clarke finished for him. He nodded, too star-struck to say anything else. Octavia came out then, dress draped over an arm, looking at them and smiling.

‘You look great, Clarke. I’ll just be in front looking at the jewellery while I wait for you guys’, Octavia said before walking away. Clarke slipped into the dressing room, and while Bellamy waited, the saleswoman came to pick up their discarded dresses, the ones that hadn’t made the cut. She smiled at him, and he smiled back politely, looking away. He wasn’t interested.

‘Your girlfriend looks amazing in that dress’, the saleswoman said, dresses piled in her arms, before she walked away, leaving him no time to reply.

‘Oh, she’s not - . Yes, she does.’ He sighed; she did look amazing in that dress. 

Clarke came out, dress in hand, and they made their way to where Octavia was eyeing a necklace. Bellamy paid for Octavia’s dress, wincing when he saw the total; all of that, just for a dress? He caught her smiling at him, and he smiled back; if it made her happy, then it was worth it. Clarke paid for her own dress, using a credit card with her mom’s name on it. She shrugged at him, as if to say whatever, it’s fine, she won’t mind.

Bellamy drove them home, the girls sitting together in the back and giggling the whole way, while he thought about Clarke, the dress and the saleswoman’s comment. They had agreed to be friends, yes, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t find himself daydreaming constantly about the alternative; the what-ifs haunted him, the attraction he felt towards Clarke like a magnet dragging him home to her. Get a grip, man, he told himself, catching a glimpse of her in the rear-view mirror, making his heart skip a beat. 

************************************

CLARKE

Clarke spent the way home thinking about the saleswoman’s comment, and Bellamy’s half-assed denial; he hadn’t seemed to mind that the woman had mistaken them for a couple, and it gave her hope. She thought about how arrogant she had found him when they’d first met, and couldn’t help but smile; she’d gotten to know him well these past few months, and he was nothing like her first impression of him had led her to believe. He was smart and funny, sweet and with the biggest heart of anyone she knew; he didn’t let in other people easily, and she felt privileged that he shared so much of his heart with her. 

If she was being honest with herself, she knew they couldn’t keep up the ‘friends only’ charade much longer; every time she saw him, it took all her self-restraint not to throw her arms around him and kiss him breathless. He’d taken to hanging out with her even when Octavia wasn’t around, and some of her favorite moments were when they were sprawled on his bed, him with a book and her with her sketchbook, occasionally talking but just as comfortable in silence. Sometimes, she thought about what he would do if she just grabbed the book out of his hands and started kissing him; would he kiss her back? Would he push her away? But they’d agreed to be friends, so she did nothing, pushing those thoughts away to the furthest corner of her mind.

‘Ow! You’re going to need more practice, you’re going to maim the poor boy who ends up taking you to this thing’, Bellamy laughed as Octavia stepped on his feet again, bringing Clarke out of her reverie. They were slow-dancing in their living room, having pushed the coffee table to a corner of the room to clear some space. Octavia smacked him gently, sticking her tongue out at him.

‘I told you I was bad at this!’ Octavia told him, exasperated.  
‘Relax, O. You’ll get it. Just follow my lead’, Bellamy replied  
patiently, taking her in his arms again and twirling her slowly around the room. They danced for a few more minutes, during which time Bellamy winced every 10 seconds when Octavia would inevitably step on his feet; finally, the girl gave up, letting herself fall down on the couch next to Clarke. 

‘How about you, Princess? Care for a dance?’ Bellamy turned to her and smiled, and she couldn’t help but smile back. His feet must be begging for him to stop, and yet here he was, offering her a dance. She took the hand he presented her, pulling her up off the couch and into his arms. He placed one hand at her waist, the other holding her own hand at shoulder level, his gaze locking with hers as they started to sway gently to the music; Clarke could feel her cheeks heating, the intense look in Bellamy’s eyes enough to make her blush. He shifted ever so slightly closer to her, the hand resting at her waist sliding to the small of her back, her own hand sliding to the back of his neck, brushing against the curls there; their breaths mingled, their lips so close yet so far away. Clarke had the urge to push herself up on her toes to bridge the gap between them, to feel his lips against hers...

‘Just kiss already!’ Octavia shouted at them, making them both jump, and stepping away from each other quickly. Bellamy ran his hand through his hair, looking down at the floor, while Clarke cleared her throat, her cheeks on fire.

‘Geez, you guys! Will you just put yourselves and me out of our misery and kiss please! I can’t take the heart-eyes anymore, just do something about it or quit looking at each other like that, but make a decision!’ Octavia continued passionately, looking back and forth between her brother and her friend, before leaving the room. They heard her bedroom door close, and looked at each other, uncertain, for a moment. 

‘So that was weird, huh? I wonder what’s gotten into her’, Clarke asked, trying to diffuse the tension between her and Bellamy. Clearly, she wasn’t hiding her feelings very well, but the way Octavia had phrased it, it made it seem like she wasn’t the only one; did Bellamy feel the same? He’d jokingly told her he liked her once, but he’d immediately backed off and asked to be just friends; so which was it? She decided to play it cool, letting him take the lead.

‘Yeah, weird. The thing is, Clarke, when that saleswoman called you my girlfriend today, I was disappointed.’

‘Oh?’ she replied, feeling her heart sink down to her toes.

‘I was disappointed that I had to correct her,’ he continued, and her heart gave a tiny quiver of hope. 

‘I know I asked you to be just friends, and I’m going back on those words now, but I want more than that.’ As he talked, her heart shook itself off slowly, until it was flip-flopping in her chest.

‘I want that, too’, Clarke said, feeling as if she was shouting, her heartbeat was roaring so loudly in her ears; Bellamy smiled at her, taking a step towards her, and another, until they were standing toe to toe, one arm encircling her waist while his other hand cupped her cheek gently. She looked up at him, breathless, her arms sliding up his chest to his shoulders, their gazes locked; he leaned down, his lips barely brushing against hers, and Clarke fisted his shirt, pulling him closer. Kissing Bellamy was like finding water after a week-long trek in the desert; she wanted to drown in his kisses, craving his lips against hers more than she needed her next breath. 

He pulled away slightly, leaning his forehead against hers. ‘I guess we’re together now, Princess’, he whispered, and she could feel his heart pounding against her own, betraying the aura of calm his voice had created.

‘Together. I like that’, Clarke replied, smiling at him before pulling him back in for another kiss.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Present-day chapter, Clarke and Bellamy have some words. Also my favorite line from the show is in this chapter :)

BELLARKE

Hours later, Bellamy nursed his bottle of beer while he stared at the TV in front of him; he wasn’t paying attention, and had in fact no idea what he was watching. His conversation with Clarke kept replaying on a loop in his head, rendering him dizzy. He’d been surprised when her ex had shown up, but then again, he hadn’t expected her to have lived like a nun since he’d been gone. 

‘Ow! What the hell, O?’ he exclaimed, rubbing the back of his head where his sister had just slapped him.

‘What did you do to Clarke?’ His sister stood in front of him, hands on her hips, shooting daggers at him with her eyes. 

He sighed, taking a long sip of beer before finally replying. ‘Nothing, O. We just don’t see this thing between us the same way; I’m just some guy she likes to sleep with, apparently.’

Octavia frowned at him, the fire in her eyes igniting to a blazing fury. ‘What the hell is wrong with you? She’s in love with you, you idiot! Anyone can see that, except for you two.’  
‘What? You don’t understand, O. Clarke doesn’t want anything serious, not with me. I’m just the guy who broke her heart, I’m not good enough for an actual relationship’, he replied, laughing sarcastically at himself. 

‘Exactly. You broke her heart, Bell. She’s scared of getting hurt again, can’t you see that? It almost destroyed her the last time. You weren’t around to see how things unfolded after you left, but I was. She loves you, but she’s terrified of taking a chance on you. Please, don’t give up on her just yet; not if you love her as much as I think you do. She’ll forgive you; the question is, will you forgive yourself?’ his sister replied, more calmly this time. 

He smiled slightly at her. ‘When did you get to be so smart?’

‘Didn’t you know? I’m the smart one in this family’, Octavia replied, winking at him. ‘Don’t be too harsh with her, okay? Just give her some time, she’ll come around and see how special you are,’ she added, smiling.

Her words hit him like a knife to the gut; he’d let his ego get the better of him, lashing out at Clarke and for what? Because she wasn’t ready to call whatever was between them a relationship? He’d been stupid enough to lose her once, and in his quest to win her over at last, he’d done exactly what he’d been afraid of doing; he’d pushed her away, and this time he wasn’t sure if they could come back from this. He knew Clarke didn’t trust people easily, and he’d broken that trust once more; regret ate away at him. 

‘I need to talk to her, to apologize. Can you drive me? I’ve been drinking, and I don’t feel up to it,’ he asked his sister, contrite.

‘Of course, Bell. I’m not sure she’ll want to see you, though.’

‘I have to try, O.’ 

The siblings drove to Clarke’s apartment in silence, the air thick with tension. Bellamy knew he was putting his sister in an uncomfortable situation, having to navigate the emotional roller-coaster happening between him and her friend, and he felt miserable about it; their own relationship had taken a blow last time, and he hoped it wouldn’t go that far this time around. When they arrived at their destination, Octavia dropped him off and drove away, leaving him alone to deal with his mess. He knocked on Clarke’s door, once, twice, before it opened slightly to reveal Raven.

She glared at him, not trying to hide her contempt. ‘Not now, Bellamy.’

‘Please, Raven. I need to talk to her. It’s important,’ he pleaded with her, a note of desperation in his voice. 

‘Now’s not a good time. You should leave.’ Raven’s eyes shot daggers at him, much like Octavia’s had.

‘Please. I messed up, I need to make things right between us,’ he asked again, annoyance starting to bloom in his chest.

‘I know. I heard what happened, and I was actually here for her instead of running away,’ she said in a hard voice. Unlike you. She didn’t say the words out loud, but he knew she was thinking them; he was thinking them too, and damn they hurt.

‘Thank you, for being there when I couldn’t be. But I’m here now; I’m trying to atone for those mistakes, Raven. Please. I’ll do anything, just please let me see her.’ 

Bellamy wanted to be pissed at Raven for keeping him from Clarke, but instead he was glad she had friends who had her back like this; her fierce protectiveness of Clarke made him like her even more. 

‘Alright, I’ll let you in, but if you so much as look at her wrong I’m hauling your ass out the door, got it? You said you were willing to do anything; she must be pretty important to you,’ Raven replied menacingly, before softening her voice.

‘She is.’ Bellamy stated his answer. He followed the brunette into the apartment, staying in the entryway and waiting for Clarke. 

Raven walked ahead of him a few steps, calling out ‘Asshole’s here to see you. Yell if you want me to kick him out, okay?’ and disappearing from view into the kitchen. Clarke came out of her living room, arms crossed as she studied him. 

‘Why are you here, Bellamy?’ she asked him, her voice scratchy, eyes red-rimmed from crying. The sight of her hit him like a punch to the stomach; he’d caused those tears.

‘I’m sorry. I overreacted. I just can’t bear the thought of losing you again,’ he said softly, his calm voice at odds with the chaos raging inside him. He took a step towards her, stopped; when she didn’t protest, he took another, and another, finally stopping right in front of her and wrapping his arms gingerly around her. A beat passed before he felt her arms encircle his waist, returning his embrace; he hugged her tightly to him, while Clarke buried her head in the crook of his neck. I should never have let you go, he thought to himself as he held the woman he loved.

**************************

CLARKE

Clarke stood staring at the door to her apartment long after Bellamy had left; she hadn’t intended to scream at him, but once the floodgates had opened there was no stopping them. For years, she’d held on to her pain, pushing it away in a corner of her mind, wondering what she would do if she actually ever saw him again, and now she had her answer: she would let herself get hurt again, because once wasn’t enough. Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice...she thought to herself. It was a relief when Raven showed up at her door with Octavia, as she thought spending time with her friends would distract her from her terrible love life; she should have known they wouldn’t be fooled into thinking everything was fine. 

‘What’s wrong?’ they both asked in unison as soon as they took one look at her face.

‘I had a fight with Bellamy. He left a while ago,’ Clarke answered sadly. There was no point in denying anything, they would see right through her anyway.

‘What did he do? He’s my brother and I love him but I’m going to kick his ass!’ Octavia exploded, pissed on her behalf. 

Clarke smiled a little at that; Octavia was fiercely protective of the people she loved. ‘It’s not his fault, Octavia. I’m the one who freaked out on him’, she sighed, walking to the living room and crashing on her couch, followed by her friends.

‘Let me guess: this has to do with your crippling fear of intimacy? You’re afraid if you let yourself get close to him again he’ll hurt you just like he did back then, and instead of taking a chance on love you’re being a complete coward and pushing him away before anything real can develop between you.’ Raven glared at her, delivering her speech impassibly before crossing her arms and waiting for an answer.

‘Ouch, that was harsh, Reyes,’ Octavia replied, wincing.

‘You know I’m right, Blake. Admit it, Griffin,’ she added, still glaring at Clarke.

‘Fine! I’m terrified of getting close to Bellamy again, ok? I’m scared that he’ll leave me again if things get tough; you guys know how hard it was last time,’ Clarke answered, biting her lip uncertainly.

‘We all have battle scars, Griffin. Suck it up and build a brace for yours. You’re always waiting for the other shoe to drop, just like with Niylah. Maybe it’s time you had a little faith that this time, it won’t,’ Raven said more softly this time. ‘If he does hurt you though, I’m first in line to kick his ass.’

Clarke smiled at her friends. ‘Thanks, guys. I’ll talk to him, but not right away; I need some time to think. Maybe watch a good chick flick and bawl a little.’

They both nodded, Raven going to the kitchen to make popcorn, while Octavia left, intending to give her brother a good talking-to, and if need be, an ass-kicking. Clarke watched the movie with Raven, surprised when a knock sounded at the door; Raven got up to get it, giving Clarke a chance to compose herself. She’d been crying pretty heavily, both because of the movie and because of Bellamy, and now he was here. She walked over to him, and the pain in his face stopped her in her tracks; he looked terrible, hair sticking up at odd angles like he’d been running his hands through it for hours, his eyes filled with regret. He crossed the distance between them slowly, and when he wrapped his arms around her she didn’t protest; no matter what was going on between them, she always felt at home in his embrace, and now was no different. She hugged him back, burying her face in the crook of his neck and inhaling his Bellamy smell that made her weak in the knees.

‘I’m sorry. I overreacted. I just can’t bear the thought of losing you again,’ Bellamy said softly, the words breaking her heart a little more. 

‘I’m sorry, too,’ Clarke whispered against his skin, and his arms tightened around her. ‘But I think it might be better for us to be friends. Six years is a long time, Bellamy. We don’t really know who the other person is anymore; we should get to know each other now, as we are, instead of as memories of who we used to be’, she added, forcing herself to pull away from his touch even while her body screamed at her to never let go. 

He looked stunned by her words, immeasurable sadness flashing across his features before he masked it quickly. ‘Clarke, I’ve already missed out on 6 years with you, I’m not missing another minute. We have our whole lives to fill each other in; please don’t do this.’

‘I’m sorry, Bellamy. I can’t. That might make me a coward, but that’s the way things have to be,’ Clarke replied sadly, barely holding it together as tears gathered in her eyes.

‘It does. I love you, Clarke; always have, always will,’ Bellamy said softly, running his hand through his hair and messing it up even more. He turned to leave, paused and looked back at her. ‘You were in the ICU for a week, Clarke. In a coma for another, and in the hospital for two more after that; I wasn’t allowed to see you. I wasn’t allowed to come back, because I punched a nurse. I assaulted someone, Clarke, because he stood between you and me. Your mom made damn sure I would never be allowed near you after that, threatening to call the cops on me. I couldn’t afford another notch on my record, so I left.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me any of this before?’ Clarke asked, tears sliding silently down her cheeks.

‘Because no matter what, you love your mom and I couldn’t come between you; I couldn’t make you choose,’ Bellamy replied, years of pent-up frustration and hurt evident in his voice. 

‘So you chose for me,’ she replied coldly, her heart breaking at the thought that he had left her to protect her.

‘I should have fought harder for you, for us; but I was young and stupid, and so I did what I thought was right, even if it meant breaking both our hearts in the process.’ He stood before her, eyes brimming with tears, pain and regret painted across his features; he reached for her, sighed and backed away instead. ‘I’m leaving town for a while, I have a contract somewhere else. I’ll come back for Octavia’s wedding. Goodbye, princess.’

Without a word, Bellamy turned around and walked out of her apartment, out of her life, and the pain was so great Clarke felt like she was losing him all over again; she closed the door behind him, whispering through her tears: ‘May we meet again’.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Past chapter, where we find out a bit more about Bellamy's past. This chapter also has a little bit of smut ;)

BELLAMY

Late afternoon sunlight filtered in through the open curtains on the window, illuminating the room and Clarke’s blond strands, lending them an almost ethereal glow; they were lying on his bed together, her head on his chest, and Bellamy stroked her back lazily, smiling to himself. He still had trouble wrapping his mind around the fact that this smart, beautiful, generous girl was with him, of all people; Clarke was the best thing that had ever happened to him, and he lived in fear of screwing it up. It had been two months now since he’d admitted to wanting more out of their friendship, and it had been wonderful; not much had changed, except for the fact that now they could make out when they hung out, though he tried not to monopolize Clarke too much, not wanting to screw up Octavia and Clarke’s friendship. 

‘I wish you could’ve met my dad; he would have loved you,’ Clarke’s voice interrupted his musings, and he concentrated on her instead.

‘I’m not so sure about that’, he replied casually, tangling his fingers in her silky hair as he spoke. 

‘A smart, hard-working guy like you, who makes me happier than I’ve ever been? That’s all he would have wanted,’ Clarke answered, turning her face towards his and smiling slightly. 

‘There are things you don’t know about me, Clarke. I’m not perfect. Far from it’, Bellamy said, frowning down at her. Something in his voice must have caught her attention, because Clarke sat up, her smile gone.

‘Nobody’s perfect, Bellamy,’ she stroked his cheek gently, the ghost of a smile making its way to her lips. ‘Talk to me.’

He sighed, running his hand through his hair, before sitting up next to her. ‘I have a juvenile record. I got into some trouble at my old school, before we moved here. I punched a guy; he ended up in the hospital. I don’t talk about it, because I’m not proud of it, but he’d been bullying Octavia for a while, and I couldn’t take it anymore; none of the teachers believed her, because she had no proof, and I couldn’t just stand by and let it happen.’

Clarke took his hand, lacing their fingers together, not talking, and just listening to him talk. She gave him a small, encouraging smile, and he continued.

‘One day, after school, I waited for him in the parking lot and we got into a fight. His parents pressed charges, and I was sent to juvie. I don’t regret what I did; I was protecting my sister, and I would do it again. I’m not a good guy, Clarke. You deserve better than me.’ 

Bellamy stopped talking, pressing his lips together and not meeting Clarke’s gaze; he’d never talked about it before, not to anyone. His past was public record, but he didn’t like to dwell on it, and people didn’t ask. He felt a hand on his cheek and he looked up, finally meeting Clarke’s insightful gaze. 

‘Maybe there are no good guys; we’ve all done things we’re not proud of Bellamy. You’re not going to scare me away that easily; I’m in this. We’re together now, remember?’ she smiled softly at him, and his heart felt close to bursting. 

‘You really are amazing, Clarke, you know that?’ he asked her, wonder in his voice. Her answering smile warmed him it felt so bright.

‘Bet you’ve never had a girlfriend as phenomenal as me before,’ she replied cheekily, sticking her tongue out at him. Bellamy smiled at her antics, before sobering up; he looked down at their hands, fingers still laced together, his other hand cupping her cheek gently as he met her gaze.

‘I’ve never had a girlfriend, Clarke. I’m not very good at this whole relationship thing; I was always a no-strings-attached type of guy, but then you came along, and I was done for. You’re the only girl I’ve ever loved,’ he whispered, before closing the distance between them and pressing his lips gently on hers. She kissed him back, snaking her arms around his neck to pull him closer; he shifted on the bed, pushing her gently to her back, his chest on top of hers. Bellamy broke the kiss, letting his lips trail over her skin and dropping kisses along her jaw, before pulling away suddenly and rocking back on his heels, breaking all contact with her.

‘We have to stop. Before we go too far’, he panted, desire coursing through his veins like lava. 

‘What if I don’t want to stop?’ Clarke replied, reaching for him and pulling her down on top of her. Her words undid any hint of restraint he had, and he gave in to the longing to touch her, to be with the girl he loved and be as one. 

******************************

CLARKE

‘I’ve never had a girlfriend, Clarke. I’m not very good at this whole relationship thing; I was always a no-strings-attached type of guy, but then you came along, and I was done for. You’re the only girl I’ve ever loved,’ Bellamy whispered, and Clarke’s heart felt so full it might explode from happiness. He loved her. He loved her. 

I love you too; the words were on the edge of her lips, just waiting for her to take the plunge and say them back, but before she could, he pressed his lips against hers. She melted into the kiss, and their tongues met; Clarke’s skin felt as if it were on fire, his touch igniting the flames of her desire. He pushed her back against the bed and she sank down into the mattress, his delicious weight on top of her. His hand sneaked under her shirt, coming up to cup one of her breasts and she sighed against his lips. She trailed kisses along his jaw, going up to his earlobe and sucking it gently. He moaned, murmuring her name in wonder. Her hands roamed under his t-shirt, loving the feel of his smooth, warm skin; he shifted again, his hips coming into contact with hers. She could feel his enthusiasm against the vee of her legs and she moaned, lost in sensation. 

Bellamy pulled away suddenly, sitting back on his heels on the other side of the bed, breaking all contact with her. 

‘We have to stop. Before we go too far’, he panted, though his eyes told a different tale.

‘What if I don’t want to stop?’ Clarke replied, reaching for him and pulling her down on top of her again, her lips finding his in a hot kiss. He groaned, reaching for his shirt and pulling it over his head. He was gorgeous, his muscles defined by hard work; she slid her hands to his back, loving the feel of his hot skin against her palms. She pulled her shirt over her head, the urge to be skin to skin with him almost overwhelming in its intensity; he did quick work of taking off her bra, stopping to look at her in wonder.

‘So beautiful’, he murmured, his hands coming to cup her breasts and teasing her nipples. His mouth replaced his hands and she cried out, lost in the sensations he drew from her body. He reached for her jeans, undoing the button and zipper and sliding them down her legs, doing the same for his own, discarding them to the floor. Feeling bold, she caressed his erection through his boxers and he hissed in a breath; she felt powerful, knowing she could elicit such a reaction from him with barely a touch. He slid her panties down her legs, sending them to join the rest of their clothes on the bedroom floor; he went to the nightstand, coming back with a condom. 

‘Are you sure?’ Bellamy asked, looking into her eyes. 

‘Absolutely; I trust you, Bellamy.’ She spoke the words calmly, even though her heart was beating madly in her chest; she was nervous, yes, but she also wanted him with something that bordered on desperation. Her words seemed to give him pause; he closed his eyes briefly, as if absorbing the words as a wondrous gift. 

He took off his boxers, sliding the condom on his length and coming to lie next to her on the bed. He reached for her, kissing her softly at first, then more urgently; his hand skimmed her body down to her center, sliding between the wet folds and finding that little nub of pleasure that was so desperate for his touch. She moaned, and he kept rubbing until she cried out. Bellamy placed himself between her thighs, his arms gathering her close as her legs wrapped around his waist; he pushed inside her slowly, letting her body adjust to the size and feel of him. 

‘Are you ok?’ he whispered in her ear, concern all over his beautiful face. Clarke nodded, tilting her head up for a kiss; his lips met hers immediately, his tongue sliding in to meet hers in a sensual dance he mimicked with his body. He started to move his hips slowly, and the pain lessened gradually, being replaced by something akin to pleasure. She kissed his jaw, his neck, his shoulder, her hands caressing his back as he moved into her, waves of pleasure starting to flow back and forth, until they crashed and she came, his name on her lips. He followed suit, sighing her name and finding her lips with his; he kissed her tenderly, almost reverently, leaning back just enough to look into her eyes.

‘I love you.’ 

Three simple words, and Clarke’s life would never be the same; her heart burst with happiness, her breath catching in her throat.

‘I love you, Clarke Griffin,’ Bellamy murmured, placing a soft kiss on her lips.

She kissed him back, smiling against his lips. ‘I love you, too.’

He smiled then, the biggest, most wonderful smile she had ever seen light up his face, and she knew that her heart would forever belong to Bellamy Blake.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me so long to update! This chapter is in the present, and sorry to Abby fans because this chapter is not great for her...thanks for reading! :)

BELLAMY

It had been two weeks since he’d left town, left Clarke, and if he was being honest with himself, he hated it; he hated being away from her, hated how they’d left things. He missed her, missed waking up next to her and falling asleep with her in his arms, missed her laughter when he did something stupid just to see her smile, missed the hungry look in her eyes when he touched the right spots on her body, missed everything about her. Bellamy didn’t regret leaving though; he knew Clarke needed some time to think things through, and it was best if he gave her some space. 

Bellamy walked through his apartment to the kitchen, looking through the cupboards for inspiration, finding none and closing them, reaching instead for his phone to order take-out. He used to love this apartment, but now he found it devoid of charm, like a show apartment instead of someone’s actual home. He found himself thinking about Clarke’s place and all of the personal touches she’d put throughout her home; pictures of her with Raven and Octavia, pictures of her father, even an old picture of them from when they’d been together back then. When he’d asked her about it, she’d said she hadn’t been able to part with it. He thought about the old blanket she kept on the couch for when she got cold while watching TV, the notebooks in every room so she could sketch whenever she felt like it, the bookcase overflowing with books and movies she loved, the secret compartment in her cupboards where she kept her favorite candy...images chased each other in his mind, making him miss her even more. 

He shook his head, trying to clear it of the images of Clarke, and was grateful when a knock sounded at the door and it turned out to be the delivery guy with his food. He didn’t order takeout often, preferring to cook at home, but tonight the inspiration simply wasn’t there; he ate his food slowly, staring unseeingly at the TV and not tasting anything. He could have been eating cardboard, and he would have seen no difference. Sighing, he pushed the leftovers aside, reaching for a beer instead, but even the drink held no appeal.  
It was Lincoln’s bachelor party tonight, and though Bellamy had been invited, he’d opted to skip it; in his current mood, he thought it better to isolate himself and not bring down the party with his misery-filled attitude. He sighed, flipping the channel to his favorite, the history channel, and lost himself in a documentary about the Second World War until he fell asleep.

The next day, he was accosted by Murphy as soon as he walked in to work. He was ready to brush his concern aside, but the look on the other man’s face stopped him. 

‘I need to talk to you. It’s important.’ Murphy stated, his face serious, not giving anything away. 

Wordlessly, Bellamy gestured to the door, indicating they could talk outside, and Murphy walked out, followed by Bellamy. They sat on the porch of the house they were currently renovating, not talking for a few minutes, until Murphy broke the silence.

‘I’m giving you my two week’s notice,’ he said quietly, staring down at his hands. Bellamy startled; he hadn’t been expecting that at all. ‘I’m sorry, Bellamy. Emori got her dream job offer, and she’s taking it, which means moving to New York.’

Bellamy nodded. ‘And you’re following her.’

‘Yes. I love her.’ Murphy answered, though it hadn’t been a question, stating his answer matter-of-factly. 

‘And that’s enough of a reason for you? To move across the country, so she can pursue this dream job of hers?’ Bellamy asked, curious; would he be willing to do the same, for Clarke?

‘It is. As corny as it sounds, she’s the love of my life, man. I’m not giving that up for anything,’ Murphy answered, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. ‘What about you, though? Clarke? You’ve been mooning after her for years, now you finally get her back and you’re just going to let her slip through your fingers? What the hell man?’ he added, looking Bellamy straight in the eyes. 

‘It’s complicated. We’ve built completely different lives for ourselves, in two separate cities; I can’t just – ’ Bellamy said slowly, running his hand through his hair.

‘What? Quit? I don’t see why not. From where I’m standing, the only thing holding you back is yourself,’ Murphy replied, before getting up and walking inside, back to work. 

All through the day, his words stayed with Bellamy; Murphy was right. There was nothing to tie him to this place; his family and the woman he loved weren’t here, and they were all that mattered. With Murphy leaving, he realised that yes, he was willing to sacrifice everything, if it meant having Clarke back in his life for good; he hadn’t fought for them hard enough before, and he wouldn’t be making that mistake again. His mind made up, he walked back inside the house, taking the same path Murphy had taken only moments before, only to stop when his phone rang. When he saw Octavia’s name flash across the screen, he answered it immediately.

‘Hey, O. What’s up?’ Bellamy asked his sister, smiling. At her next words, the smile dropped from his face at once, his heart jumping into his throat and lodging there, a curl of dread dancing through his stomach. 

‘Bellamy! Something’s happened. It’s Abby. She’s not well, Bellamy; Clarke’s at the hospital with her. Whatever you have going on with Clarke is going to have to wait, you need to get back here for this. She needs you, Bel,’ his sister told him, a note of sympathy in her voice. 

‘I’m on my way,’ Bellamy replied, not hesitating for a second. He knew of the difficult relationship Clarke had with her mother, and he wouldn’t leave her alone in this. He ended the call, running inside to tell Murphy then running back out to his car and driving away, straight to Clarke.

*************************************

CLARKE

Raven had taken over the kitchen in Clarke’s apartment, heating up the appetizers she had brought from the bar, while Clarke made mocktails and set up the coffee table in the living room with bowls of Octavia’s favorite junk-foods. They were having a girl’s night for Octavia’s bachelorette party, as she had made them swear to keep it simple, and just them. Raven had pouted at first, as she wanted to plan a raucous party with a stripper, but Octavia had protested, insisting on a girl’s night instead. Raven had relented, knowing the simpler evening would make her friend happy, and Clarke was glad she had; she wasn’t in a party mood anyway. 

A knock sounded at the door and a moment later, Octavia walked in, looking radiant. In fact, she had been glowing lately, which Clarke attributed to the fact that she would soon by marrying the love of her life, Lincoln. Clarke smiled at her in greeting, and Raven walked in, holding platters of delicious looking appetizers, which she set on the table with the rest of the food. Clarke put on a movie while Raven poured them drinks, and they all settled into the couch, plates filled to the brim on their laps; they were watching Bridesmaids, which Clarke thought fit in well with the theme of the evening. She was grateful for her friends, and the movie, as they all helped her ignore the ache in her chest whenever she thought of Bellamy; she’d pushed him away, an action she deeply regretted now, but she knew it was better this way. They would only hurt each other in the end; it was how it had always been between them.

Raven got up to refill their glasses, and noticing Octavia hadn’t touched hers, she frowned.

‘Do you not like this awesome mocktail Clarke mixed? I think it’s delicious,’ Raven asked her friend, arms crossed and waiting.

‘I just wanted to make sure it was alcohol-free before drinking it. I know you guys don’t usually drink, but this time I had to make sure...’ Octavia answered, looking from Clarke to Raven and back again, smiling shyly. 

‘OMG!’ ‘What?!?’ Raven and Clarke both exclaimed at the same time, hugging her and screaming excitedly. 

‘I’m pregnant! Surprise!’ Octavia answered, smiling brightly at her friends and hugging them back. 

Once all three had calmed down, Clarke went to the kitchen to refill the chips, taking a moment to compose herself. She was beyond happy for her friend, but a small part of her ached for Bellamy still. She thought about how happy he would be to find out he would be an uncle, and the thought nearly drove her to tears; she’d made a mistake, pushing him away. She missed him, and her heart broke at the notion that she had broken his. Sighing, she swept aside her feelings; this evening was about Octavia, not about her. Pasting a smile on her face, she went back to the living room, glass of water in hand, and focused on her friends.

 

A week after the party, Clarke was in her office, trying to work, but kept getting distracted by the memory of Bellamy kissing her here, almost taking her against that wall over there, and though she tried to push the alluring thoughts aside, she couldn’t help it. Her phone rang, startling her out of her reverie; she didn’t recognise the number, but she answered anyway, frowning.

‘Hello?’ 

‘Hello, is this Clarke Griffin?’ an unfamiliar voice greeted her.

‘This is she. How may I help you?’ Clarke kept her voice cool and professional, still not recognising the person on the line. 

‘I’m calling from the Arkadian Hospital, on behalf of Abigail Griffin. She is currently in palliative care, and has asked us to contact you. She doesn’t have much time, Ms. Griffin,’ the voice in her ear was soothing and kind, so it took Clarke a second to realise what the woman was saying.

‘She’s dying?’ she asked in a small voice, unsure how to feel about this; on the one hand, she’d been a drunk most of her life, and Clarke hadn’t seen her in years, choosing to distance herself from the other woman after what they’d been through. On the other hand, this was her mother; while she wouldn’t be winning any awards for her parenting, she was still her mother. 

‘I’ll be right there,’ she told the woman on the phone and hung up. Clarke sat at her desk for a moment, shaken; after a few minutes, she gathered her purse and her coat, texting both Raven and Octavia while she walked to her car. She almost texted Bellamy, but she thought better of it; it wasn’t up to him to help her through this. She drove to the hospital in a daze, parked and walked inside, somehow making her way to the right wing of the hospital, where a nurse greeted her. 

‘Hello, may I help you?’ the woman asked Clarke kindly, and she replied in a daze that she was Abigail Griffin’s daughter; the nurse smiled sympathetically at her, leading her to the right room. When she walked in, she was startled by the sight of her mother looking so slight; she’d always been a small woman, but the person on the hospital bed was frail and weak-looking. There was a slight yellowish tone to her skin, and she seemed tired, almost lethargic; she was dying from acute liver failure, and from the looks of it, Abby didn’t have much time left.

‘Mom?’ she called out hesitantly, taking her mother’s hand in hers carefully. ‘It’s me, Clarke.’

Abby turned to look at her, which seemed painful, smiling slightly at the sight of her daughter. ‘Clarke. I wanted to see you one last time, before - ’. Abby paused, the words seemingly a great effort for her to get out. ‘I’m so happy to see you. You’re so beautiful, honey.’

The old endearment brought tears to Clarke’s eyes, and she grasped Abby’s hand tighter, looking down at their joined hands. 

‘I’m sorry, Clarke. I’m so sorry. I wish things could have been different, with you and me. With Bellamy, too,’ Abby whispered, tears gathered in her own eyes. At the mention of Bellamy’s name, Clarke looked up, startled. 

‘I blamed him for the accident. I thought I had lost you forever, and I blamed him for that. He didn’t deserve that; neither did you.’ Abby paused, taking a shaky breath, before she continued. ‘I shouldn’t have stood in your way. The truth is, seeing you with him reminded me of all that I’d lost when your father died. I think I was jealous. I’m so sorry, honey. Can you forgive me?’ Tears were now flowing down her cheeks, and she struggled to breathe properly, too weak to hang on much longer.

‘I forgive you, mom. It’s ok. I forgive you,’ Clarke whispered the words, stroking Abby’s hair slowly as she repeated the words her mother needed to hear. She sat next to her mother’s bed for hours, stroking her hand until Abby took one last rattling breath, before death claimed her and she was at peace. Clarke went outside so the medical staff could do their thing, stopping in her tracks when she saw him.

Bellamy was standing in the hallway, arguing with a nurse so she would let him through. Clarke walked up to him and he turned around, wrapping her in his strong arms immediately.

‘Octavia called me; I came right away. You’re out of your mind if you think I’m letting you do this alone, Clarke,’ Bellamy murmured against her hair, caressing her back soothingly while she cried, holding her until she stepped back.

‘I’m glad you’re here, Bellamy. Thank you,’ Clarke replied, her voice husky from tears. Just then, Octavia, Lincoln and Raven burst in, practically mowing her down in their haste to hug her, and Clarke was struck by how much she loved these people. They were her family, as unconventional as it was, and she couldn’t be more grateful to have them in her life.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Past chapter! It's Prom night, but something happens to ruin it...

BELLAMY

Bellamy stood in front of the mirror, nervously adjusting his tie, while Clarke helped Octavia curl her hair; tonight was Prom night, and he wanted to make sure everything was perfect for the girls. He’d rented a tuxedo, and the fabric itched against his skin; he wasn’t used to wearing clothes this fancy, and he felt ill-at-ease. For Clarke though, he was willing to endure anything; he loved her, and he wanted nothing more than her happiness. Octavia was getting a ride with her date, and when he showed up, Bellamy let him in, eyeing him menacingly so he would know what awaited him if he messed with his little sister, before leading him to the living room where his mother was waiting with a camera. Octavia walked in a few moments later, looking radiant in her dress, hair curled and coiffed in a complicated updo Clarke had helped her with. She smiled at her date, enduring the obligatory pictures, before they made their way to the school, holding hands and smiling. 

Once they’d left, Bellamy stood in the living room, nervously clutching the corsage he’d bought for Clarke; it was made-up of dusty-pink orchids and white calla lilies, her favorite flowers, held together by a blush-colored ribbon. Clarke walked in, smiling shyly at him, mouthing wow when she saw him. Bellamy’s heart seemed to stop beating for a moment as he took her in; the blush dress that hugged her curves perfectly, her blond waves cascading down her back, and the way she smiled at him, all made him fall in love with her even more. She looked like a princess, his princess, and in that moment, he knew that his heart would forever belong to Clarke Griffin.

‘You look beautiful sweetie’, his mother told her, coming to hug Clarke briefly. Clarke hugged her back, smiling at him over the other woman’s shoulder. While his mother worked a lot, she’d made sure she could be here tonight to take pictures before they all left, and he was grateful, if a little embarrassed. Aurora hadn’t wanted to miss their ‘big night’ as she called it; she’d switched shifts with another waitress to be here. Bellamy put his arm around Clarke’s waist, posing for a few pictures before deciding he’d had enough and could they please leave? His mother laughed and waved them out the door, still taking pictures.

Once outside, Bellamy opened the passenger door for Clarke, making sure her dress didn’t get caught in the door before closing it and walking over to the driver’s side. He handed her the corsage, watching her face light up when she saw it, and he placed it gently around her wrist.

‘You look gorgeous, Clarke. As always,’ Bellamy told her, his hand caressing her wrist gently next to the corsage.

She smiled, her hand coming to rest on his cheek, before going down to rest on his heart.

‘I love you, Bellamy,’ she whispered, leaning forward to kiss him gently. He kissed her back, whispering I love you between each meeting of their lips, before finally pulling away so he could focus on driving them to the school. He drove with one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting on Clarke’s lap, their fingers interlaced, while they listened to the radio, not talking, content to just be together. Clarke ran her thumb over his hand, and he looked over at her, smiling; she smiled back, before turning her head back to the front.

‘Bellamy look out!’ she screamed, and he turned back, startled to find a cat was running across the road. He swerved to avoid it, letting go of Clarke’s hand to grip the steering wheel with both hands; he braked, but the car slipped, continuing its path. It had been raining all day and although it was no longer raining now, the roads were wet and full of puddles. Bellamy heard honking, and Clarke screaming, before the car finally stopped. He let out the breath he’d been holding, looking over at Clarke and smiling reassuringly at her, but the smile froze on his face when he saw the headlights heading straight for them; the next instant, a car crashed into them, and the last thing he saw was a blinding light.

 

When he woke up next, he was lying down, and people were milling all around him. Bellamy tried to sit up, but a firm hand on his chest pushed him back down.

‘Careful. You might have a head injury, we need to clear you before you can move’, a nurse told him gently, moving to check his vital signs. 

‘Take care of her, I’m fine! Take care of her first!’ Bellamy burst out, looking frantically around for Clarke, not finding her. Panic coursed through his veins, and anger that they wouldn’t let him go find her. He needed to find her, to make sure she was fine. That she wasn’t hurt. His heart squeezed painfully in his chest at the thought that she might be injured. Or worse. He shook his head, trying to clear it; she would be fine. She was strong, his Clarke. She would be fine.

‘Clarke!’ he shouted her name, hoping to hear her voice answering him, telling him to calm down, that she was fine; instead, it was the nurse who answered him. 

‘She’s in the next room over, getting help right now. Please settle down so I can check you,’ the nurse said firmly, waving away the security guys who had come over at his outburst. Relief flooded him, and the fight went out of him in a rush; Clarke was alive. That was all that mattered.

‘When can I see her?’ he asked instantly, letting the nurse do whatever she wanted to him. Clarke’s alive. He repeated it over and over in his head like a mantra; Clarke is alive. 

‘I need to take care of your injuries first. She’s in good hands,’ the nurse replied, smiling sympathetically at him. Bellamy nodded, noticing for the first time that he was indeed injured, though nothing major; some cuts, and a gash on his forehead that needed stitches. He did every test the doctor ordered without complaint, thinking only of getting to see Clarke; when they finally found him in almost perfect health, aside from some scratches and bruises, they finally released him. He walked outside the room to find Octavia there, clutching her poor date’s hand in hers so hard her knuckles were white. She burst into tears at the sight of him, running to him and throwing her arms carefully around him. 

‘Are you okay? Is Clarke okay? Where is she? Mom’s on her way, she’ll be here soon,’ his sister babbled through her tears, letting him go and looking up at him worriedly.

‘I’m fine, O. Looks worse than it is. I’m going to see Clarke now; they wouldn’t let me go until they made sure I was fine’, Bellamy replied, an edge of impatience to his voice; he hadn’t seen Clarke yet, and worry gnawed at him. He needed to see for himself that she was okay. 

‘Can you wait here for mom and let her know I’m okay? I’ll be back soon,’ he added, already walking away to find Clarke, his heart beating erratically in his chest. He walked straight up to the nurse who had helped him, and she directed him upstairs, to the ICU. His heart froze in his chest, its frantic rhythm dying down, and his breath caught in his throat; ICU was for serious injuries. He walked a little faster, increasing his pace until he was practically running down the hallway where he’d been told she would be, only to get stopped by another nurse, a male this time. This one wasn’t as friendly as the one who’d taken care of him; in fact, he seemed downright angry. 

‘Can I help you?’ he asked Bellamy, though his tone implied that he wouldn’t.

‘I’m here to see Clarke Griffin. Please,’ Bellamy asked him, desperation adding an edge to his voice. 

‘Are you a family member?’ the nurse replied, arms crossed on his chest, looking bored.

‘I’m her boyfriend.’ Bellamy’s voice shook a little, and he cleared his throat.

‘Only immediate family members are allowed in the ICU. I suggest you go back where you came from. Her mother can update you on her condition,’ the man answered stonily, not a hint of sympathy in his voice. He made a shooing motion at Bellamy, and Bellamy couldn’t take it anymore; he needed to see Clarke, and nobody was going to stand in his way, especially not this power-tripping nurse. Bellamy tried to walk past him, but the other man grabbed his shoulder in an effort to stop him; Bellamy turned around and punched him, his hand connecting with the other man’s face in a satisfying crunch. Blood burst from the nurse’s nose, and he dropped to the floor, moaning in pain, while Bellamy ran to Clarke, to the girl he loved, only to be stopped a couple minutes later by two security guards. He screamed her name, hoping she would hear him and know he was trying, trying to get to her; he screamed until his voice was hoarse, until the guards pushed him out the doors and warned him not to come back.

 

*********************************************

CLARKE

Clarke smiled at her reflection in the mirror, twirling a little to see the movement her dress made when she did; she couldn’t wait until she was in Bellamy’s arms, dancing the night away in this beautiful dress. She turned back to Octavia, grabbing the curling iron they had been heating up and applying it to the girl’s hair, taking her time. Once she was done curling it, Clarke got to work braiding and tying her friend’s hair, pining sections to her head and letting curled tendrils of hair cascade down. The girls had made sure Bellamy waited for them in the living room, wanting their looks to be a surprise; he’d seen their dresses, of course, since he’d been the one to take them shopping for them, but he hadn’t seen the end result. 

Octavia was going with a boy from their English class, a kid named Jasper, who had nervously asked her if she would be his date a few weeks ago; he’d nearly passed out from relief when she had accepted his invitation, the poor guy. Octavia found him sweet and funny, and was lab partners with his best friend Monty, who would be joining them along with his girlfriend Harper. They were all riding together, except Clarke and Bellamy, who’d opted to go by themselves; six was too many people for one car anyway. Secretly, Clarke was glad to be going by themselves, so she could enjoy her time alone with Bellamy more; they were rarely alone, as his sister was often home. They didn’t necessarily hang out together all the time, but she was still there. Tonight, it would truly be just them, and Clarke was so excited.

When she walked into the living room, her heart flipped over in her chest at the sight of him, standing next to his mother while she took pictures of Octavia and Jasper; he looked so handsome in his tuxedo, so elegant and shy. She smiled at him, mouthing wow as she looked him up and down, sketching him in her mind so she would never forget how handsome he was right now. 

‘You look beautiful, sweetie,’ Aurora told her, smiling and giving her a hug. Clarke hugged her back, smiling at Bellamy over the other woman’s shoulder; he looked dazed, like he couldn’t quite believe that she was his, that they were together and in love. They posed for a few pictures, finally making their way outside to the car, which Bellamy brought as close to the front stoop as possible so Clarke wouldn’t get the hem of her dress wet, as it had been raining all day.

Once inside, Bellamy handed her a small, transparent plastic box, which contained the most beautiful corsage she’d ever seen; her heart swelled in her chest, and tears sprung to her eyes. He’d remembered her favorite flowers, and the gesture made her love him even more.

‘You look gorgeous, Clarke. As always,’ Bellamy told her, his hand caressing her wrist gently next to the corsage, and it was all she could do to keep her composure. 

She smiled, her hand coming to rest on his cheek, before going down to rest on his heart.

‘I love you, Bellamy,’ she whispered, leaning forward to kiss him gently. He kissed her back, whispering I love you between each meeting of their lips, before finally pulling away so he could focus on driving them to the school. He drove slowly, their hands interlaced on her lap, and she loved having it there, feeling the reassuring pressure of his fingers around hers. Clarke ran her thumb over his hand, and he looked over at her, smiling; she smiled back, before turning her head back to the front. A cat ran across the street, and she screamed, while Bellamy quickly turned his attention back to the road, swerving to avoid the animal. The road was wet, and the car didn’t seem to be responding to Bellamy’s actions; they kept on sliding across the street, and Clarke kept on screaming. It was like she had no control over her voice; she willed herself to stop, but she couldn’t. 

The car finally stopped, her screams following suit; Bellamy turned to smile at her, and she started smiling back, until the smile froze on his face, suddenly illuminated by a blinding light. In that instant, she knew; she saw the fear in his eyes, before a car slammed into them and all she knew was pain. 

Harsh lights shone overhead, blinding her; she blinked a few times, hoping they would go away, but they didn’t. Her vision was hazy, like she was looking at the world through a veil of fog, and her limbs felt heavy. She lay there for a few moments, not moving, until slowly the room around her came into focus; machines were beeping next to her bed, in time to the beats of her heart. She was in the hospital, tubes coming out of her arms, and one of her legs was in a cast. Flowers adorned every available surface, and a hand was holding tightly to hers. Bellamy. She turned her head slowly, expecting to see his dark curls, and the smile that he seemed to reserve just for her, but instead she saw her mother, looking worriedly down at her.

‘Clarke? Honey? Can you hear me?’ the woman spoke softly, still squeezing Clarke’s hand in hers. 

‘Hi, mom. Stop squeezing my hand so hard or my bones will break,’ Clarke answered, though her voice was raspy from disuse. Tears immediately sprang into her mother’s eyes, though she loosened her grip a little. Clarke was grateful, as every part of her body ached; she looked down at the cast on her leg, relieved that it wasn’t her arm, and she could keep drawing, at least. A tiny bit of positivity in a bad situation. 

‘I’m so happy to see you awake, honey. I was so worried about you,’ Abby told her, the tears now falling silently down her cheeks. 

‘What happened? When can I go home?’ Clarke asked her, confused. She remembered being in the car with Bellamy, on their way to the Prom, and then...nothing. ‘Where’s Bellamy?’

‘Honey, there was an accident. You were injured, badly; I thought I’d lost you forever.’ Abby took a shuddering breath, before continuing. ‘You’ve been in a coma for a week; the doctors weren’t sure if – when- you were going to wake up.’ 

Clarke absorbed the news, shocked; she remembered the accident like it was yesterday. 

‘Where’s Bellamy? Is he okay?’ she asked her mother again, worry for him overwhelming her. 

‘He’s fine. Don’t worry about him,’ Abby answered curtly, walking out of the room to get a doctor. Clarke frowned, confused; there was no way he’d have just left her, not after the accident. Something was going on, though she was too tired to question her mother further at the moment; she let the doctors examine her, before promptly falling asleep again. When she awoke next, it was to a smiling Abby.

‘I can take you home today, honey. We’ll just collect your stuff from the front desk and then stop at the pharmacy for painkillers,’ Abby told her, and Clarke smiled back weakly. There was no way she was taking those pills home; it was bad enough Abby had access to alcohol, there was no way Clarke was giving her access to prescription drugs. She would endure the pain, knowing it was better that she spend some time hurting than have her mother mix pills with her already heavy alcohol consumption. 

The hospital staff gave Clarke her belongings in a big plastic bag: her clutch, the jewellery she’d been wearing for Prom, her dress...Her beautiful blush dress, now stained and torn and cut into pieces. She let the fabric dance across her fingertips, tears in her eyes; they’d had to cut her out of it. Her heart broke a little at the thought, though it was nothing compared to the way it felt when she powered up her phone to discover she had no new messages from Bellamy. Maybe he was waiting for her at home, she thought, and hope flared to life in her chest, only to be crushed once more when they arrived at the apartment and he was nowhere to be seen.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Present-day chapter, the aftermath of Abby's demise, and drunk Clarke ;)

BELLAMY

At the funeral, Bellamy had stayed by Clarke’s side, with Raven and Octavia right next to him; they enveloped Clarke in a cocoon of support, though she had remained stoic throughout the whole ordeal. It was a small, intimate service, and afterwards, Clarke lingered, her fingers trailing the casket as she said a final farewell to her mother. There was a small gathering at the bar, and Bellamy walked over with Clarke, neither of them talking, their hands occasionally brushing against each other, until finally they laced their fingers together. Once there, Clarke let go of his hand, walking in and going straight to the bar, pouring herself a shot of vodka and swallowing it before he had even walked in; she poured herself another, and another, and another, until he lost count of how many she’d had and she was swaying on her feet. 

‘I think you’ve had enough,’ Bellamy told her, taking a shot glass from her hand and putting it down on the counter. 

She pouted, her words slurred when she replied. ‘You’rrrre no ffffun.’

He caught Raven’s eye, gesturing to Clarke and mouthing ‘I’m taking her home’. Raven nodded, and he slipped his arm around Clarke’s waist, supporting her weight as she hobbled along next to him all the way to her apartment; once there, he hooked an arm under her knees and carried her to her bed, setting her down gently on top of the covers.  
He pulled them back, then kneeled in front of Clarke and started taking off her shoes.

‘Is thisss the part offf the evening where you raviiishh me and make me forget alllll my problems?’ Clarke asked him, though he had difficulty understanding the words. She pulled at her clothes, fanning herself as she did. ‘It’s sooo hot in here. Why is it sooo hot in herrre? Oh, wait. It must be you. You’rrre hot.’ She burst into giggles, trying to pull him into bed with her.

Bellamy struggled against her, but drunk-Clarke was strong; she managed to pull him on top of her, her tongue somehow ending up in his ear. 

‘Clarke, please, stop trying to undress me. I’m not sleeping with you while you’re drunk,’ Bellamy told her firmly, finally managing to pull away from her grasp and standing next to her bed, arms crossed on against his chest. 

She pouted at him. ‘But whyyy? You’vvve slept with evvverybodddy else!’ 

‘That’s a bit of an exaggeration, but I’m not going to argue with you while you’re in this state,’ Bellamy replied, trying to suppress a smile.

She nodded, finally giving up, and pulled her dress over her head, tossing it to a corner of the bedroom before settling into the covers. ‘Will you at least stay with me until I fall asleep? Please, Bellamy?’

Even though he knew he probably shouldn’t, he gave in, climbing in next to her on top of the covers; she curled into him, her head on his chest, and he felt her shoulders start to shake. She was finally letting go, letting herself feel the sadness and pain she had suppressed for years. He stroked her back gently while she cried, caressing her hair and murmuring soothing words into her ear. She was strong, his Clarke, and he knew she would get through this. He wished he could have spared her from this pain; she’d already been through so much, she deserved to be happy. He had a few things to take care of back at his apartment, and after that, he would spend the rest of his life making sure she got that happiness. 

He stayed until she finally fell asleep, exhausted; he fetched some aspirin and a glass of water and placed them both on her nightstand, dropping a soft kiss on her forehead before leaving; he would be back for Octavia and Lincoln’s wedding in two weeks. Until then, he had to find a new tenant for his apartment and tell his crew he was leaving. The first would be easy enough; he’d never bought a place, knowing deep down it wasn’t his home. His home was here, with Clarke. He didn’t want to lose her again, and it was about time he did something about that. Telling his crew would be harder, as he had worked with these guys for years, but he knew it needed to be done. He would give the reins over to Miller; he knew the other man had great plans for it, and that the crew would be in good hands. Bellamy smiled to himself, feeling lighter than he had in years; all of the puzzle pieces were fitting together, and only the final and most important piece remained: Clarke. And so he left her apartment, intending to come back in two weeks and win her back for good. 

**************************************

CLARKE

Clarke felt numb as she watched her mother’s lifeless body being lowered into the ground; her feet felt frozen in place, refusing to budge, as if roots had sprung up from the earth and clutched her ankles in a powerful grip. She couldn’t hear what the funeral director was saying, though she saw his mouth move; she nodded along, pretending she was listening, when in reality she was lost in thought. Mixed emotions battled for dominance within her, overwhelming in their intensity; suddenly she felt a hand takes hers, the warmth of it surprising her on this cool spring day. The world around her abruptly came into focus, Bellamy’s hand in hers serving as her anchor; she gripped his hand tighter, almost painfully, grateful for his support. 

They hadn’t left things on great terms, but here he was again, proving what an amazing guy she had let slip through her fingers. Correction: had purposefully pushed away until he had no choice but to leave. They walked slowly to the bar after the service, not talking, and as soon as she walked in, Clarke made a beeline for the bar. Alcohol. She needed alcohol, and she needed it now. She wasted no time, grabbing a bottle of vodka with one hand and a glass with the other, pouring herself shot after shot after shot, until a pleasant warmth curled in her belly. She didn’t drink usually, not ever, but tonight was different; she’d lost her mother, Bellamy was here, and she didn’t know what to feel anymore. She didn’t want to feel anything for a while; just a few minutes of peace, that’s all she wanted. Just five minutes. Was that too much to ask?

When she started wobbling on her feet, Bellamy was there, slipping his strong arm around her waist and helping her walk home. She wanted to protest, tell him he’d done enough, he should just go home and leave her here to drink the night away, but he felt so good, his side pressed against hers, his warmth enveloping her in a soothing caress, that she gave up and let herself get carried to her bed. Speaking of bed...they were both adults, both single, so why not give in to temptation and forget about the rest for a moment?

‘Is thisss the part offf the evening where you raviiishh me and make me forget alllll my problems?’ Clarke asked Bellamy, her words coming out more slurred than she’d intended. How much had she had to drink? She’d lost count after the fifth shot. 

A cloying heat encased her; had she forgotten to turn down the heat? She pulled at her clothes, fanning herself as she did. ‘It’s sooo hot in here. Why is it sooo hot in herrre? Oh, wait. It must be you. You’rrre hot.’ She burst into giggles, reaching out for Bellamy to pull him into bed with her.

Bellamy struggled against her, but she was determined; she managed to pull him on top of her, her tongue circling his earlobe as she tried to kiss him. 

‘Clarke, please, stop trying to undress me. I’m not sleeping with you while you’re drunk,’ Bellamy told her firmly, finally managing to pull away from her grasp and standing next to her bed, arms crossed on against his chest. 

She pouted at him. ‘But whyyy? You’vvve slept with evvverybodddy else!’

‘That’s a bit of an exaggeration, but I’m not going to argue with you while you’re in this state,’ Bellamy replied, trying to suppress a smile. 

She nodded, finally giving up, and pulled her dress over her head, tossing it to a corner of the bedroom before settling into the covers. ‘Will you at least stay with me until I fall asleep? Please, Bellamy?’

He seemed to hesitate for a moment, finally giving in and climbing in next to her, on top of the covers; Clarke snuggled into his side, her strength leaving her as soon as she did. She finally let herself cry, safe in his arms as he stroked her back slowly, until she had no more tears to cry.

When she woke up next, Bellamy was gone, and there was a glass of water and some aspirin on her bedside table, which she swallowed gratefully; she had a massive headache, and the urge to vomit was strong. She got up slowly, not turning on any lights; she feared it would be too much for her eyes to handle at the moment. She showered in the dark, emerging twenty minutes later wrapped in a towel and feeling like a human again. 

‘Griffin! Glad to see you survived; you looked pretty intoxicated last night,’ Raven grinned at her from the kitchen, glass of murky liquid in hand, which she handed to Clarke. ‘Drink this, you’ll feel better. Just don’t ask what’s in it.’

Clarke took the glass, sniffing the contents before taking a big swig; it tasted horrible, but she managed to swallow and keep it down, taking another, smaller sip. 

‘Thank you, I feel better already,’ she lied, setting the glass on the counter. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Please. You think I was going to let you leave with Bellamy, drunk as a sailor, and not check up on you?’ Raven replied, concern etched on her beautiful face. 

Clarke smiled a little, going over to her friend and hugging her tight. ‘I’m okay. Thanks for checking up on me. Nothing happened, by the way. Bellamy’s too much of a gentleman to take advantage of a drunken woman, even a drunk woman who throws herself at him. So embarrassing.’

Raven smiled back, hugging her just as tightly as Clarke was holding her. ‘Glad to hear that. Now come on and get dressed, final fitting for our bridesmaids dresses in an hour. We can’t be late, or Octavia will go Bridezilla on our asses.’

Clarke smiled, hurrying to get dressed, because a Bridezilla Octavia was a scary thought. So was the idea that Bellamy would be back for the wedding. Clarke wasn’t sure what she would say to him when she saw him again, but she knew she had to make things right between them or risk losing him forever.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Past-chaper, where Clarke meets Raven and they bond over their injuries

BELLARKE

After he’d been kicked out of the ICU, Bellamy wandered the hospital halls, looking for another way to get to Clarke without being seen; he finally managed to find one, waiting for a woman who had to be her mother to exit the room so he could go in. Looking furtively left, then right, he walked quickly to the door, slipping in unnoticed, stopping short at the sight of Clarke. She lay in the hospital bed, tubes coming out of her seemingly everywhere; tears filled his eyes, threatening to spill over, but he held them in, gently talking her hand in his, careful not to disturb any of the tubes. She had multiple cuts and bruises, and one of her legs was in a cast, but still she was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen; guilt overwhelmed him, and the tears hovering on his lashes finally spilled over, sliding silently down his cheeks. He’d put Clarke in danger, had almost lost her; she was hurt because of him. 

‘I’m so sorry, princess,’ he whispered through his tears, squeezing her hand gently to let her know he was here. 

‘What are you doing in here? Get away from her!’ a woman’s voice said angrily behind him, and Bellamy let go of her hand, quickly wiping his eyes and spinning around to come face to face with a woman who had to be Clarke’s mother. 

‘I just wanted to see her, make sure she was fine,’ he replied softly, his voice husky from crying. 

‘You have no right to be here! You did this to her; I could have lost her, because of you. Don’t ever come near my daughter again, or I’ll call the police, do you hear me? Stay away.’ Abby spit the words at him, jabbing her finger in his chest to emphasize her words, fury contorting her features. ‘I know all about you, Bellamy Blake. A whore for a mother who tried to clean up her act as a waitress; two kids with different fathers, neither of them around to help raise you. Seems she didn’t do such a great job, now did she? You’re a juvenile delinquent, failing out of school and you thought you could what? Seduce my daughter into helping you? Thought she would help you improve your image? All you’ve done is taint Clarke’s with your lower-class, dirty, druggie sister and your violent tendencies.’

With every word she spoke, Bellamy’s tears dried up, his heart turning to stone; rage simmered inside him, threatening to spill over, but he contained it, barely. Screaming at this woman would do no good; the things she was saying about his mother and sister were horrible lies, but she was right about one thing: he had endangered Clarke. He knew there was no use arguing with Abby, and so he turned on his heel and left, knowing that if she made good on her promise and called the police, he would be in a world of trouble. Didn’t matter that he hadn’t caused the accident; he had a record, and that was all they would see. He walked out the door, his heart breaking as he looked back at the girl he loved, and had now lost. 

A month after the accident, Bellamy heard from Octavia that Clarke was out of the hospital, and he breathed a sigh of relief. The weight of his guilt lessened somewhat, knowing she would be fine; she would need physical therapy, but would lead a normal and healthy life. That night, he packed his bags, knowing Clarke would eventually come looking for him, and he couldn’t endanger her again; once was too much, and he couldn’t bear the thought that it might happen again. 

‘I don’t understand why you won’t talk to her Bell; she loves you, and I know you love her too. So what’s the problem?’ Octavia asked him, sitting on his bed and watching him throw clothes haphazardly in a duffel bag. 

‘It’s complicated, O. You wouldn’t understand. I just need to leave, put as much distance between this place and me as I can; don’t be sad, I’ll keep in touch. You can come visit me anytime, okay?’ Bellamy replied, noticing the tears in his sister’s eyes. He sat down next to her, putting an arm around her shoulders and squeezing her gently. ‘I love you, sis.’

She sighed, leaning her head against his shoulder. ‘I love you too, big brother. But for the record, I think this is stupid. You and Clarke were meant to be together; I never thought you’d give up this easily.’

‘None of this is easy for me, O. It’s just what’s best for all of us. Now come on, walk me to the door, brat.’ Bellamy grabbed his bag, stopping to hug his mom goodbye, which turned into a group hug with Octavia, both women crying in his arms. Finally, they let go, and he made his way to his car, the same one from the accident. The passenger side was fixed now, but it still gave him a pang of guilt to see it; he loaded his bag, waved to his family one last time and was off, off to another city where nobody knew him and he could start over, away from his remorse, away from Clarke. He wasn’t good enough for her, and she would be better off without him, or so he told himself as the guilt threatened to overwhelm him once more. 

**************************************************

CLARKE

Clarke wobbled her way into the building, fake-smiling at Abby until she drove away. It was bad enough that her mother had to drive her to her physical therapy appointment, but Abby also waited until Clarke reached the door before driving away, as if to make sure Clarke actually went in. But seriously, where else would she go? She couldn’t drive, and she was on crutches; what Abby thought she would do, she had no idea. As soon as her mother wasn’t in range anymore, Clarke dropped the smile, rolling her eyes. Ever since the accident, Abby had been overprotective and overbearing, while her drinking had only gotten worse; she claimed almost losing her only daughter had scared her, and she needed to drink to forget. It saddened Clarke to see her mother like this, but what could she do? She’d tried getting rid of all the booze in the apartment, which had only sparked her mother’s fury; she’d erupted at Clarke, yelling and crying until she’d passed out. 

Sighing, Clarke walked slowly into the building, the crutches hindering her movements somewhat, stopping for a moment to let her eyes adjust to the dimmer lighting; the sun had been shining today, and the contrast blinded her temporarily. When her focus returned, she saw a girl limping slightly a few feet away from her, ponytail swinging as she headed towards the back of the building. 

Clarke hurried as much as she could to catch up, calling out. ‘Excuse me! Are you headed for the physical therapy area? It’s my first time, I’m not sure where to go exactly,’ she asked the brunette, wincing a little as she put too much weight on her bad leg. 

‘What makes you think I need physical therapy?’ the girl asked her, and Clarke felt her face become beet-red; had she just insulted this girl by assuming she needed therapy when in fact she didn’t?

‘I’m just kidding! Clearly, my bum leg clued you in. I’m Raven Reyes,’ the girl added quickly, laughing at Clarke’s crimson cheeks and extending her hand. 

Clarke shook it, smiling ruefully at Raven. ‘Clarke Griffin. Nice to meet you.’

‘So Griffin, what did you do to get here?’ Raven asked her, gesturing to her leg.

‘Car accident. My boyfriend was driving us to Prom and a car hit us, passenger side. Next thing I know, I wake up in the hospital with a broken leg and no boyfriend,’ she answered, and realising how it sounded, quickly added: ‘He didn’t die or anything, he was just...gone when I woke up. I haven’t heard from him since.’ She smiled sadly, pushing away the feeling of wanting to burst into tears; now was not the time. 

‘Boys suck. Believe me, I know a little something about it. I was really into this guy from my neighbourhood and long story short, I got shot. I needed surgery to remove the bullet, and the doctors did everything they could but I’m still stuck with this bum leg,’ Raven replied, linking her arm through Clarke’s and leading her to the physical therapy area.

‘Ok, wow. You’re going to have to go into a lot more detail, because long story short I got shot is just not going to cut it,’ Clarke smiled at Raven, and the action gave her pause; she hadn’t smiled for real since the accident, and it felt damn good to smile again. 

The next day, Clarke was getting ready to go meet Raven when a knock sounded at the apartment door; Abby had gone to work, so Clarke toddled her way to the entrance, surprised to see Octavia on the other side, wringing her hands anxiously.

‘Hey Clarke, is this a bad time?’ Octavia asked nervously, her eyes red-rimmed from crying.

Clarke stepped back, opening the door so her friend could walk in, gesturing for the girl to follow her to the living room. She dropped unceremoniously to the couch, and watched as Octavia did the same on the opposite end. 

‘I’ve been so worried about you; I tried to come see you at the hospital, but your mom said you weren’t allowed any visitors. How are you? Is that a stupid thing to ask, after an accident? I mean, obviously you’re not great, but I’m not sure how else to phrase it – ’ Octavia babbled until Clarke put a hand on her arm, gently stopping her.

‘It’s fine. I’m fine, I guess. Lots of bruises and cuts, a broken leg...but all of that will heal. I started physical therapy yesterday, and I made a new friend. I think you’ll like her. She’s great,’ she answered, doing some babbling of her own. They stared awkwardly at each other, until Clarke mustered up her courage and asked: ‘How’s Bellamy?’

Octavia’s face fell, tears welling up in her eyes immediately. ‘He left. I’m so sorry, Clarke. He tried to see you in the hospital, but I don’t know, I think something happened, but I’m not sure. When he heard you were waking up, he freaked out, started packing his bags, saying he needed to leave, that it was better that way...I don’t know what got into him. I tried to get him to talk to me, but he wouldn’t. I’m so sorry,’ her voice broke at the end, and she looked down at her hands, not meeting Clarke’s gaze.

‘Was he hurt in the accident?’ Clarke asked calmly, though on the inside all she could think was he left? He left me? Without saying goodbye? He just....left?!?

‘Some scrapes and bruises, but nothing serious. You got the brunt of the impact,’ Octavia replied, wiping her eyes. 

‘That’s good. That he didn’t get hurt, I mean. Um...he left? Did he leave anything for me?’ Clarke asked in a small voice, though she knew before her friend shook her head no what the answer would be. Bellamy Blake had left without a word, slipping away from her life as if he’d never been there at all, silently cutting off all contact with Clarke. And so she did the only thing she could manage to do at the moment, which was lose all pretense of bravado and cry, until she couldn’t, until she could only sob and scream her pain, until her voice got hoarse and her eyes dried up.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chaper, next is the epilogue! Present-day chapter :)

BELLAMY

Bellamy watched his sister marry Lincoln with tears in his eyes, grinning from ear to ear; their love for each other shone bright, and they deserved all the happiness in the world. He’d seen glimpses of Clarke throughout the day, and she looked as beautiful as ever. He ached for her, but had kept his distance; their relationship needed mending, but the first step had to come from her. 

‘Dance with me?’ a voice asked on his left, intruding on his thoughts. Bellamy had been sitting at the bar by himself, nursing a drink and looking at his sister dance with her new groom, love and happiness clear as day on her face; it had been a beautiful ceremony, simple and heartfelt. 

He didn’t bother looking at whoever it was before answering: ‘I don’t dance.’

Suddenly, Clarke was standing right in front of him, holding out her hand to him. ‘For me?’

He nodded, helpless to deny her; he took her hand, letting her pull him to his feet and followed her to the makeshift dance floor, his other hand settling at her waist. She placed her free hand on his shoulder, looking up at him, her face serious, while he clenched his jaw in frustration, in an attempt not to kiss her right there. The reception was being held in all simplicity at Raven and Clarke’s bar, and it made him wistful to think of what could have been. 

‘I’m sorry, Bellamy. I was scared; I am scared. Scared to let you in again, scared of getting hurt...but I don’t want to spend the rest of my life without you because I couldn’t push past it and take a leap of faith.’ She paused, and he let her words sink in, his hand tightening on her waist, sliding to her lower back and pulling her closer.

‘Tell me what you’ve felt for Niylah, or whoever else you were with these past few years even compares to what we had, and I’ll leave you alone,’ Bellamy replied, his gaze holding Clarke’s intently; whatever she said next would determine their future, and he held his breath, waiting for her answer.

‘I can’t. I can’t tell you that, Bellamy.’ At those words, his heart shattered; he’d hoped she would come to terms with her issues and take a chance on them, but no such luck.

‘Because it didn’t measure up. Not even close.’ 

He let out the breath he had been holding, still cautious, not ready to believe it quite yet. He released her hand, and she immediately slid it around his neck, shifting slightly closer still; his own hand settled at her lower back, pulling her close, until their breaths mingled as they swayed slowly to the music.

‘Is that what you want to hear? You’re it for me, Bellamy,’ Clarke added, breathless. Their gazes locked, and everything else seemed to fade away; there was only Clarke, and the feeling of her in his arms, tears welling in her eyes. Bellamy leaned down slightly, his lips barely brushing hers; he felt her tighten her hold on his neck, urging him closer, their lips meeting for a kiss this time. They pulled apart slightly, Bellamy resting his forehead against Clarke’s, neither of them talking for a moment.

‘And now you’re home, and that’s all that matters to me. I love you. I’m sorry I ever made you doubt that,’ Clarke continued, a tear slowly rolling down her cheek. Bellamy reached out his hand, wiping the moisture from her skin, before looking deep into her eyes.

‘I love you too, Princess,’ he whispered, and her answering smile was the only reassurance he needed that this was good, that this was meant to be.

Without a word, Clarke let her arms fall from around his neck, taking his hand in hers and leading him away from the party, into her office, where she promptly locked the door. Bellamy pushed her against it, his lips finding hers hungrily, their tongues meeting almost violently. Need pulsed through him; he wanted to brand her, make her his. He slid his hands under her dress and pulled her panties down to the floor. She braced her back on the wall, and Bellamy cupped her ass, supporting her weight as she wrapped her legs around his waist. His hand found her folds, already wet and ready for him, while Clarke pulled at his pants, freeing his erection, and he slid inside her, joining them as one. He rocked his hips and she moaned, digging her fingers into his back. She screamed her release, and he covered her shouts with kisses, still pumping inside her until he came, his legs shaky and his breath halting. He leaned his forehead against hers and she smiled, her face flushed.

‘This is what I imagined would happen the last time we were in this office together,’ she said breathlessly, making him laugh.

‘If Raven hadn’t interrupted us the last time, this is exactly what would’ve happened,’ he replied, smiling. They stood there for a moment, finally pulling apart and cleaning up.  
‘May I have this dance?’ Bellamy asked her, taking Clarke in his arms again, and noting just how right and good it felt to have her there; she smiled at him, accepting his offer, and they danced, their bodies pressed together as they swayed gently to the music. 

**************************************

CLARKE

Clarke cried happily throughout the wedding, Octavia and Lincoln’s vows making her feel things she had no business feeling; marriage had never been something she aspired to, not after seeing her mother destroyed with the loss of her husband, Clarke’s father, and yet...and yet she found herself imagining that she was the one up there, declaring her love for Bellamy Blake for all the world to see. It’s probably too late for that now, she thought, smiling sadly. 

At some point between the vows, the pictures, the appetizers and the meal, Octavia pulled her aside, dragging her to the bathroom and frowning at her.

‘What is wrong with you?’ the bride demanded, glaring at Clarke.

‘Nothing. I’m fine,’ she replied, though she wasn’t convincing even to her own ears. ‘I’m incredibly happy for you and Lincoln, it’s just...’

‘Bellamy,’ the other girl supplied, sighing. ‘What did my brother do now?’

‘He didn’t do anything, I’m just lost in thought, I guess.’ 

‘Care to share what has your panties in such a twist?’ Octavia asked, smiling jokingly at her.

‘Love is weakness, Octavia. When you love someone, you give that person the opportunity to hurt you like no one else can; you give that person the power to destroy you,’ Clarke mused, not meeting her friend’s piercing gaze.

‘Sounds like a lonely way to live. I love you, Clarke. Raven loves you. Bellamy loves you. Does that make us weak?’ Octavia said earnestly, waiting for a reaction.

When she didn’t reply, Octavia pressed on. ‘It makes us human, Clarke. Not weak. I know you’re scared of getting hurt again, but get your head out of your ass and face facts: you’re in love with my brother. The only thing keeping you two apart is your own fear; you have no one else to blame but yourself.’

Clarke reeled, absorbing her friend’s harsh words; she was right, of course. ‘You’re right, I do love him. With every fiber of my being; but I’ve pushed him away so many times, how do I know he won’t reject me now?’

Octavia smiled. ‘You don’t. You have to take a chance. Just be sure, Clarke. He’s been hurt enough.’ With those parting words, she exited the bathroom and went back to her groom. Clarke took a moment to compose herself, Octavia’s words reverberating through her brain. He’s been hurt enough. She had been the one to cause that hurt. No more. Her mind made up, she walked into the ballroom, straight to where Bellamy was sitting by himself, watching everybody else dance, and offered her hand.

‘Dance with me?’ she asked him nervously, unsure of his reaction.

He didn’t bother looking up before answering: ‘I don’t dance.’

This time, Clarke wasn’t letting him go without a fight. She insisted: ‘For me?’

At the sound of her voice, he looked up and nodded, taking the hand she offered and following her to the dance floor, his other hand settling at her waist. She placed her free hand on his shoulder, looking up at him, mentally kicking herself for hurting him, and so grateful that he would still choose to listen to her, to forgive her, even now. 

‘I’m sorry, Bellamy. I was scared; I am scared. Scared to let you in again, scared of getting hurt...but I don’t want to spend the rest of my life without you because I couldn’t push past it and take a leap of faith.’ She paused, waiting for his reaction; his hand tightened on her waist, sliding to her lower back and pulling her closer, and she went willingly.

‘Tell me what you’ve felt for Niylah, or whoever else you were with these past few years even compares to what we had, and I’ll leave you alone,’ Bellamy replied in a heated tone, his gaze holding Clarke’s intently. 

She bit her lip, looking up at him. ‘I can’t. I can’t tell you that, Bellamy.’ 

She paused, and noticing the saddened expression on his face, quickly added: ‘Because it didn’t measure up. Not even close.’ 

He released her hand, and she immediately slid it around his neck, shifting slightly closer still; his own hand settled at her lower back, pulling her close, until their breaths mingled as they swayed slowly to the music.

‘Is that what you want to hear? You’re it for me, Bellamy,’ Clarke continued, breathless. Their gazes locked, and everything else seemed to fade away; there was only Bellamy, his strong arms around her, holding her close. He leaned down slightly, his lips barely brushing hers; she tightened her hold on his neck, urging him closer, their lips meeting for a kiss this time. They pulled apart slightly, Bellamy resting his forehead against Clarke’s, neither of them talking for a moment.

‘And now you’re home, and that’s all that matters to me. I love you. I’m sorry I ever made you doubt that,’ Clarke whispered, a tear slowly rolling down her cheek. Bellamy reached out his hand, wiping the moisture from her skin, before looking deep into her eyes. This was it; she’d laid it all out on the line, and now he would either reject her for good or forgive all. 

‘I love you too, Princess,’ he whispered, and she almost cried out in relief. She hadn’t ruined them after all. She smiled at him, happiness overwhelming her at once. 

Without a word, Clarke let her arms fall from around his neck, taking his hand in hers and leading him away from the party, into her office, where she promptly locked the door. Bellamy pushed her against it, his lips finding hers hungrily, their tongues meeting almost violently. Need pulsed through her; she wanted him to brand her, to make her his. He slid his hands under her dress and pulled her panties down to the floor, and she braced her back on the wall, Bellamy cupping her ass and supporting her weight as she wrapped her legs around his waist. His hand found her folds, already wet and ready for him, while Clarke pulled at his pants, freeing his erection, and he slid inside her, joining them as one. He rocked his hips and she moaned, digging her fingers into his back. She screamed her release, and he covered her shouts with kisses, still pumping inside her until he came, his legs shaky and his breath halting. He leaned his forehead against hers and she smiled, her face flushed.

‘This is what I imagined would happen the last time we were in this office together,’ she said breathlessly, making him laugh.

‘If Raven hadn’t interrupted us the last time, this is exactly what would’ve happened,’ he replied, smiling. They stood there for a moment, finally pulling apart and cleaning up.  
‘May I have this dance?’ Bellamy asked her, taking Clarke in his arms again; she smiled at him, accepting his offer, and they danced, their bodies pressed together as they swayed gently to the music, lost in their own world.


	20. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Small epilogue to finish off this fanfic. Thanks so much to everyone who read it and left kudos! Means the world to me :)

It was a cold, dreary Saturday morning, the rain pelting against the windows when Clarke was woken up by a ringing cell phone; she reached out to turn it off, but it rang insistently, and she groaned, finally picking up.

‘This better be good,’ she answered without looking at the caller ID; whoever called this early on a Saturday should be prepared to handle her grumpiness. 

‘Is this Clarke Griffin?’ a woman’s sympathetic voice asked her, and suddenly she was wide awake.

‘This is she’. 

The person on the other end of the line identified themselves as the emergency room nurse. Clarke’s blood crystallised in her veins, fear trying to overwhelm her, but she wouldn’t let it; she listened carefully to the woman’s instructions, throwing on the first clothes she managed to get her hands on, which happened to be pajamas, but oh well. This was too important. Bellamy was hurt, and her worst fear was being realised; the last few months had been amazing, and they were moving into their new house soon, just as soon as Bellamy finished fixing it up. She couldn’t lose him, not again. 

Clarke burst through the doors of the emergency room, hair in a wild mess on her head; she went straight to the nurses’ station, breathlessly asking where Bellamy was. Dread coursed through her veins; she couldn’t lose him. Not now, not like this. She ran to the right room, tears springing to her eyes; she brushed them away angrily. Now was not the time. 

She erupted through the doors, shouting ‘Bellamy! You scared the shit out of me, don’t ever do that again do you hear me?’ 

She stopped short when she saw him. He was sitting up in bed, eating Jell-O and happily talking with a nurse. Both Bellamy and the nurse gaped at her, and she flushed, suddenly embarrassed at her display. ‘Sorry,’ she muttered as the nurse walked past her, smiling reassuringly. 

‘What the hell happened to you? I woke up to a nurse telling me you’d been hurt! Seriously, what is it with you and cars?’ Clarke asked him, coming to sit on the bed next to him. He had a couple of scratches, and a nasty scrape on his arm, but he looked fine otherwise.

‘I had an errand to run, and I figured I’d be back before you woke up. I’m sorry, but you know what they say...history has a way of repeating itself,’ he smiled at her, proud of his witty comment. 

‘Damn it, Bellamy! How can you joke at a time like this? I thought I’d lost you!’ she burst out, the adrenaline still surging through her body. 

Again. She’d thought she’d lost him again. The word hung in the air between them, unspoken, and yet the weight of it threatened to collapse upon them both.

‘Princess...Clarke. Look at me. I’m fine, okay? You didn’t lose me. You won’t. I’m here to stay. We’re going to grow old together, right?’ Bellamy murmured, his gaze never leaving hers. He linked his fingers with hers, and this time, she managed to smile a little as the reassuring warmth of his hand seeped into her own. 

‘Right. Together. I’m going to hold you to that,’ she whispered back, her smile growing bigger. ‘What was so important that you had to run out at 8h00 in the morning on a Saturday?’

‘Trust me, it’s important. Now close your eyes, I have something for you,’ Bellamy continued, before letting go of her hand and turning away to rummage through his coat pocket, which was lying on the bedside table. She did as he asked; if he was joking around, he couldn’t have been hurt that badly.

‘Open them,’ he whispered, and when she did she was shocked to see him holding a small, velvet-covered box.

‘I think that nurse is going to yell at me if I try and get down on one knee, so I’m going to do this sitting in this hospital bed, okay? I love you, Clarke Griffin. Always have, always will. Will you marry me?’ Bellamy asked, tears in his eyes, smiling a hopeful smile that tore right through any doubt she could’ve had.

‘Of course I will! I love you, Bellamy Blake,’ she answered, matching tears rolling down her own cheeks, and as she leaned in and kissed him, she decided that if love was indeed weakness, she wanted to stay weak forever with this man.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope to see you again next chapter!


End file.
